


Chasing Liberty

by suallenparker



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, Chasing Liberty AU, F/M, Humor, May undercover, Movie AU, Romance, Slow Burn, Victoria and Anna, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 33,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4839848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suallenparker/pseuds/suallenparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Facing thirty, Phil Coulson wants to make his own decisions. Unfortunately, his mother, the president of the United States, makes that impossible. When Elaine Coulson breaks another promise, Phil runs away. A childish reaction, yes. But also a freeing one. Photographer Melinda May joins him on his Trip from New York to Las Vegas …</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Airport

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been forever since I last wrote a longer piece and now here it is, the first chapter of probably fourteen chapters more to come of my newest AU! I’m excited and scared and I hope you enjoy this! Please let me know what you think because without you guys writing is just half the fun!  
> Thank you so much already to crazymaryt, carolineaquino73, dianemaryallison and melindathecavalrymay for giving me the courage to push forward after a rough start. As you guys will see, my original beginning went through lots of re-writes! You guys were awesome!

 

Phil could see it happen before it actually did. Usually, when something was about to go wrong, he could sense it. Just like now.

There was just something in the way that kid had sneaked closer to that elderly woman with the two big suitcases. The kid was maybe fifteen, about as tall as Phil, with brown eyes and lots of pimples. He wore slim fitting jeans, a hoodie and black sneakers. His feet looked too big for his body, he probably wasn't done growing yet. The woman yelped when the kid grabbed her handbag and ran off.

Some stand by and watch, some intervene to protect. Phil had always belonged to the second kind. He stepped in the kid's way.

Always a man of action. His mother wanted to market him as such to the public. This summer he should start his political career, run for senate, the whole drill.

Once the Secret Service would arrive at the Washington Airport, that new part of his life would start. She had already hired a campaign manager. But the agents weren't here yet. And Phil was still free to do what he wanted.

“Just drop the bag,” he said softly. Staying calm was important. He could see the fear in the kid's eyes and he didn't want to escalate this any further.

It was loud around them. The typical soundtrack of an airport. Flights were announced over the speakers. People passed by left and right, pulling their luggage after them. Some stopped to watch.

“Help!” the woman yelled loudly. “I've been robbed! Security!”

The kid's breathing quickened. Crap. Phil knew he was about to do something stupid.

Ad of course the kid pulled a knife, but Phil was faster. One kick with his right foot, the knife landed on the floor and the boy held his hand, his eyes widened in pain, yelping. Then he turned, like a weasel, and dashed to the left, just to run into an upheld, graceful hand that hit his throat. Gasping for air, the kid dropped the bag and held his throat with both hands as he tumbled backwards.

“Stay,” said the woman that graceful hand belonged to. “Security is on its way. Don't make me restrain you.”

The boy stared at her, but so did Phil.

Her black hair was tied into a low ponytail and she wore black jeans, a black shirt, a black leather jacket and black boots. She was breathtaking. And the boy behaved.

The security guards arrived and took him in without further resistance.

An hour later Phil walked out of the security guards' office after he had given his personal information and his statement as a witness. Fortunately the guard that had interviewed him hadn't made the connection to Phil's mother.

He was a little mad because the whole procedure had taken so long. Not because he didn't believe in the system, but because it meant that he had maybe fifteen minutes left until his time of pure freedom would end.

Outside, he saw the woman in black again as she looked on her cell and his heart skipped a beat.

“You were amazing before,” he said.

She turned to him, squinting. She slipped her cell into the pocket of her jacket.

Crap. He pulled his shoulders up. “How you trapped the kid was very impressive,” he said.

And thank God, she smiled at him. “You weren't bad either. I saw how you disarmed him.” She really had a lovely voice. Full and soft.

He smiled, too.

Then she tilted her head. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I'd remember that.”

She raised a brow.

Crap! Smooth, Phil. Very smooth! “I mean,” he added quickly, “I don't think so. Uhm. I'm Phil. Hi.”

“I'm Melinda.” She smiled again, then her eyes widened. “Oh, my God, you are Phil Coulson! Son of the president!”

Guilty as charged. “You don't have to curtsy.”

“Didn't intent to.”

He blushed. “Of course not.”

She grinned and adjusted the black bag she wore over her shoulder.

It was a very specific kind of bag. Phil hadn't really noticed it before, but now he gave it a second look. “Is that a camera?” he asked and took a step away from her. Damn, he hated when this happened! “Who sent you?”

“Excuse me?”

He glared at her. “From which magazine are you?”

“I'm not paparazzi.”

“Then why the camera?”

“I didn't take one picture of you yet,” she growled.

“Maybe you're bad at your job!”

“You're full of yourself!” she hissed before she turned to walk away.

Double crap. “I'm sorry, I just … I'm sorry.” He sighed and she turned back to him.

“I'm really sorry,” he said. “Bad experiences with cameras.”

“I read about that on Entertainment Weekly.” She glared at him. “But that's not an excuse.”

“No, it's not. I'm sorry.”

She nodded shortly. “Okay.”

“If you're not a corrupt soul-sucker paid to drag other people's life into the mud, what do you photograph?”

“Birthdays, weddings, engagements … Events where people not only invite me but pay me to take pictures of them.”

“Anything I might've seen?”

“Doubtful.”

“Is it bad that I'm relieved by that?”

She grinned. “No.”

She had lovely lips. He should ask her out. Invite her to dinner to make up for snapping at her.

“Where is your security detail?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Your protection. Secret service?”

“As you could see, I can take care of myself.”

“And protect the innocent, too.” She smiled again.

“I caught an earlier flight, so my security detail isn't here yet. I didn't tell them, I'd be early. I'm not sure why I'm telling you.” He suspected it was because she was smiling at him. She was so beautiful. He should ask her out now!

“Maybe,” he started.

But she tilted her head and looked up as she listened to the speakers that announced that a delayed flight had now arrived at its gate.

“That's my mother's flight,” she said. “I have to go. I assume you'll be safe on your own until Secret Service arrives?”

“Sure.”

“It was nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” he said like a fool and watched her leave.

He should've at least asked her for her phone number. Or her last name. Damn, he didn't even know her last name! How should he meet her again?

  
  


o0o

  
  


Melinda forced herself not to look back as she walked away. The last thing she needed was to meet a man. Even when his smile was cute. Even if he had impressive fighting skills. Especially when he was the son of the president.

Nope. There was no way.

Looking at the way ahead, she walked to gate her mother would walk out of. Luckily her flight had been delayed, otherwise Lian May wouldn't have been pleased to have to wait for Melinda to finish up with the security guards. Worse so, she would've found out that Melinda had used her training again.

Today had been the first time in two years that Melinda had seen combat. Well, somewhat combat. The poor kid hadn't posed much of a challenge.

Still, if her mother would find out, she wouldn't hear the end of it.

Lian May pursed her lips when she walked towards her daughter, pulling a small suitcase after her. “That camera again.”

Melinda took a breath. “Hello, mom.”

“Hello, Melinda.” Lian May nodded at the camera bag. “Do you have to take that everywhere?”

Melinda pressed her lips together. Of course not. But she had come to the airport directly after a job. An engagement shoot. The couple had been so cute! She had great pictures of them in they bookshop they had met in. One of the women owned it and the other had come and come again and bought books, just to see the bookshop owner. And now they were engaged! As soon as Melinda would return home, she would sift through all the pictures and make her first selections. Not that her mother cared about any of that.

Together they started walking towards the exit.

“How was the flight?” Melinda asked.

“Too long.”

“Are you pleased with how your trip went?”

“Am I ever?”

Indeed.

“You should return to duty,” her mother said. “You're too good to stop.” Because of course she couldn't let this rest.

Melinda nibbled on her bottom lip and quickened her step just a bit.

“Do you still see your therapist?”

“I'm fine.”

“Andrew says you stopped.”

Her stomach clenched when she heard the name of her ex-husband. He was so much better off without her. Why couldn’t he let go? Why did he keep taps on her? And why the hell did he talk to her mother? “I'm fine,” Melinda repeated.

“Then come back to work.”

Now she looked at her mother. “I _am_ working.”

“Waste of your talents.”

“I'm good at what I do.”

“Of course you are!” Lian's voice left no space for arguing.

This drove Melinda crazy! What did her mother mean by that? Was she talking about her old job as a CIA agent? Because Melinda was pretty sure that her mother had never seen one of Melinda's photos.

Lian sighed. “Hill called. She said you avoid her.” She glared at Melinda. “I'm not your messenger!”

Melinda clenched her hand around the corner of her camera bag. Hill would just offer her another job Melinda would have to reject. She was so tired of constantly disappointing people.

“Hill has a job for you,” her mother said. “The White House needs a photographer for an upcoming event in New York. It's a fundraiser and they want someone to document it.”

Sceptic, Melinda turned to her mother. “And they only need a photographer?”

“Hill runs a good team. They got the rest covered. Not to say that there won't be room for you, if you want -”

“I knew it!” Melinda cut in. Why couldn't she just let it rest? Couldn't she see that Melinda just needed to let it rest? “I'm done with that, mother,” she hissed. “I'm a photographer now!”

“Then you'd be silly to turn this opportunity down.” Lian raised a brow. “Private photographer to the president would look perfect on your resume.”

Of course she was right. And maybe she would see Phil Coulson again. Or not. It didn't matter. This was a business decision. Melinda took another deep breath. “I'll call Hill tomorrow.”

“You should call Andrew, too.”

Would her mother never stop? “We're over.”

“You should get him back.”

That was enough! Melinda stopped dead in her tracks and waited until Lian stopped too.

“Do you want me to drive you home or would you rather take a taxi?” she asked quietly.

Lian pressed her lips together. Neither of them said a word while they walked to the car.

 

 


	2. White House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil is found and greets his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this took so long. Life wasn’t that fun. Still, I’m so happy to present you this new chapter! And super, super nervous too, as I introduce some other characters here. Please let me know what you think! Your wonderful support keeps me going. :)

 

Today sucked. Victoria “Tori” Hand gritted her teeth as she walked through the crowds at the airport, her gaze searching the masses for one particular face.

The son of the president was missing. Phil Coulson, codename “Liberty” was her newest problem. Just a week ago she had accepted the job offer Maria Hill had made her. Tori had hoped that May would finally return to the field to join her.

But instead of having one of her best friends as her partner to handle this particular mess, she had to work with red-haired, flirty Janovčik.

Janovčik had transferred from the FBI to the secret service to lead Phil Coulson's security team with her. Janovčik's references were impressive, yes. But she was no Melinda May.

“You don't like me,” Janovčik said as she caught up with her.

Tori stayed focused on scanning the crowd. “How would that matter?”

“It doesn't.” Janovčik followed her through a group of teenagers and their gigantic suitcases. “As long as you trust me. Which you don't. Because you don't like me.”

“I don't know you.”

“And yet you choose to dislike me before giving me a chance.”

“You flirted with that security man.” Tori quickened her steps a little.

“I was nice to that security man.” Janovčik was at least a head shorter than her and had to move even faster to make up for the shortness of her legs.

“You winked at him.”

“Because you glared at him.”

Tori snorted. That security man had been utterly useless in their pursuit to find Phil Coulson. And he hadn't even been able to correctly handle the video-equipment. Tori had to take matters in her own hands and go through the film herself. All that was cut short when a security woman came in and briefly informed them that one Philip Coulson had been in their headquarters at the airport earlier, to give a statement regarding a theft. - Which he had apparently stopped.

That security man should've told them that already! Absolutely unprofessional.

“It's not his fault that Liberty decided to abandon us,” Janovčik said.

True. Still no excuse for incompetence.

She could see a a family with two little children on her left. A group of elderlies occupied a little bistro to their left. No sight of Phil Coulson. That stupid son – of their president. Tori pressed her lips together. That fool had taken a flight earlier but hadn't informed anyone. So incredibly foolish!

Her heart raced. The briefing Hill had given them this morning had shown that there were serious threats against Liberty’s life made by a racist underground organization, that took issue with the president's stand on immigration and equality. And now he was missing.

She wished Melinda was here. While they still had worked for the CIA, Melinda had always been resourceful and calm during challenging situations. Just the type of person you want next to you when you have to defuse a bomb. Or find missing the president's son.

Janovčik stopped in her tracks and nodded to her left. “Is that him?”

Tori turned and looked. A man wearing a blue baseball cap, jeans and a green sweater browsed through the bookshelves of a little shop. Phil Coulson.

Clenching her fists, Tori walked up to him. Janovčik followed. At least that moron hadn't been abducted. “Philip Coulson?” she asked him.

He turned to her. “You're the secret service?”

“Yes, sir” Janovčik said.

He tilted his head. “Can you identify yourselves?”

At least he wasn't completely stupid. They showed him their badges and he looked at them carefully before he nodded. “Alright then.”

Janovčik activated the speaker of her headset. “Team beta, we have Liberty, Liberty is safe. Retreat to the car.” Then she smiled at Coulson “How was your flight, sir?”

He smiled too. “Good, thank you.”

“Do you have any more luggage we should get?”

“No, this is all. Thank you, agent Janovčik.”

“Of course, sir.” She stepped back. “If you would follow us now …”

  
  


o0o

Although his mother had been living in the White House for the past six years, it had never felt home to him. Home was still their old house in Manitowoc. Then again, home was where family was. And his only family was here.

After he had taken a quick shower and put on fresh clothes, he was ready to face his mother. And he was right on with her schedule. If her assistant had briefed him correctly, she should just have finished a phone conference with the french prime minister.

And CJ was always correct about those things. The black haired woman with dark skin worked for his mother ever since he could remember.

But when he approached the back door to her office, he could hear muffled voices coming from within. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but he recognized them. A smile blossomed on his face. Maria Hill, youngest person to ever become chief of security to the president was definitely in there with his mother.

He hadn't seen her since last Christmas and though they had a few disagreements once in a while, he appreciated her a lot.

He opened up the door and there they were.

His mother sat behind her desk and Maria stood across from her, her hands behind her back in that typical ready-to-fight-everyone-and-everyone stand she had.

Melinda had a similar way to stand. He should've really asked for her phone number. And do what, exactly? Call her? With all the craziness that his career would bring? The scrutiny? The damn security details? There had been seven agents just to get him from the airport.

But he would get the power to change the world for the better like his mother already did. And that was what he wanted, right?

“You should tell Phil, ma'am,” Maria said calmly.

“Tell me what?” he asked. And both women turned to look at him.

“Phil!” His mother jumped out of her chair and walked over to give him a hug, a bright smile on her face. He laughed as he hugged her back.

“It's polite to knock, you know?” Maria said after his mother let go of him.

He grinned. “Hello, Maria.” Then he tilted his head. “What do you need to tell me?”

Maria hesitated and glanced at his mother, before she said. “There were-”

“It's nothing.” His mother wrapped her arm around his waist. “How was your trip?”

He could see the tension in Maria's jaw and his mother's smile was no longer convincing.

He squinted at her and she sighed.

“It's nothing, Phil.” She rubbed his back. “Not to worry.”

He would get nowhere with her. So he turned to the chief of security. “Maria?”

She lifted her chin. “I don't work for you so don't Maria me.”

He sighed. “So it's really bad, then?”

“Audrey Nathan moved to Portland,” Maria said.

A lump formed in his throat. “Excuse me?”

His mother sighed. “She accepted a position at the Portland Philharmonic and moved there.”

“I'm sorry, Phil. I know you really liked her,” Maria added.

He stepped away from his mother and crossed his arms. “Does the secret service keep taps on all my ex girlfriends?”

Both, his mother and Maria just looked at him.

Unbelievable! “That's a yes. That's crazy.” He shook his head and turned to his mother. “Audrey Nathan is not a threat.”

“Of course not,” his mother said.

Audrey was sweet and kind and just wonderful. She had broken up with him once it became clear he would go to Germany for a year. They both had agreed that a long distance relationship would be hard. He supposed that all the attention the media had given the two of them before he had left, had added to her reasoning.

“How are you?” his mother asked.

He snorted. “Jet-lagged, but fine.” He knew this wasn't what she meant, but it was true enough. “How are you?”

“Busy running the state.” She smiled.

“And I'm busy protecting your mother's life while she's running the state, thanks for asking,” Maria interjected.

He grinned at her. “Mom looks great, you're doing a fine job.”

“Then don't make it harder!”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Bullshit.” Maria glared at him. “Next time you give notice if you'll arrive somewhere early, you brief your security or I'll kick your ass.”

“Mom, your chief of security just threatened me!”

“Tattletale!”

He chuckled. “Missed you too.”

His mother rolled her eyes, then her assistant CJ, opened the front door.

“A call for you,” she just said.

When CJ interrupted them it was important. His mother sighed. “I have to take this, sorry.” She rubbed Phil's arm. “Will I see you at dinner?”

“Yes.” He smiled at her, then he and Maria walked out of the back door.

Before he could move on to his quarters, Maria touched his shoulder. “Seriously Phil, you need to let the secret service protect you.”

“I took care of myself in Germany.”

“That was Germany. You already met Hand and Janovčik and their team. They're responsible for your security.”

“Their team?” He raised a brow. “You mean those five grumpy looking people surrounding us as we walked?”

“Problem?”

“I'm not a toddler!”

“No, you're the son of the president.”

“That doesn't make me incompetent.”

“That makes you a target,” Maria said sternly.

He took a breath. “You weren't talking about Audrey when I walked in, were you?”

“My job is not a joke.” She poked his chest. “Don't run away from your security team.”

“Have there been threats?”

“You're the son of the most powerful woman of this earth, that's enough. We're keeping to protocol to keep you safe. Things won't ease up once you become governor.”

He frowned. “That's not an answer.”

“It's just not one you like.”

 

 


	3. New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Melinda snaps a picture of the president's son.

 

Melinda snapped a picture of a man and a woman gracing hands. There was such romance in that one moment, the way they just glanced at each other, how they so obviously tried to hide their connection from the crowd surrounding them, and their inability to resist touch.

Romance. She had tried it and Andrew had been perfect and she just was … not compatible with that sort of life. She had tried so hard to make their marriage work. And for a while it had. But after her last mission, after what happened in Seattle, she just couldn't force it any longer.

She deleted the picture and switched lens. A picture of an affair, even if it just captured such a subtle moment, could be disastrous. And the white house had hired her to prevent scandal.

Time to capture some group situations of the rich and powerful to illustrate how they really just had the good of the people at heart.

She took a shot of some business owners, when she saw Phil Coulson walking through the room. Today he wore a black suit and a black tie. He looked very handsome, from an aesthetic point of view. Not that she cared. This was just a job. A good one, too.

Then she recognized another face in the crowd. A smile bloomed on her face. Melinda would recognize that hair everywhere! Victoria Hand followed Phil Coulson in a bit of a distance. She wore a black, sleek pant suit. Her brown hair with red streaks was wrapped up in an elegant bun at the base of her nape. Everything about her told Melinda that she was working. The small, red haired woman on the other side of Phil must be the other half of the close security detail. There were also two agents posing as a couple on one of the balconies. They were blending in with the crowd nicely, but their body language gave them away. Their focus just stayed on the president's son.

Somehow that gave Melinda relief. With Hand in his security detail the president's son was well taken care of. Hand was one of the best, most observant agents Melinda ever had the pleasure working with. She nibbled her lip. Would this be awkward between them? Hand had been her partner before Melinda had left the CIA, ever since they hadn't talked much. Not that Hand hadn't tried. Their estrangement was also Melinda's fault.

Pushing her regrets aside, she shot a picture of Phil Coulson shaking hands with the ambassador of Italy and managed to leave Hand and the other agent out of the frame. The public didn't need to know what the security detail of the president's son looked like.

She moved position to the back of the room to get some shots of different groups. Suddenly, Phil Coulson walked into the frame again, smiling at her.

She lowered the camera and straightened up.

“Hi,” he said and tilted his head as he stopped next to her.

She smiled at him. “Hi.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

She lifted the camera. “Smile!” She snapped a picture of him.

The flash light of the camera had him blinking. “Was that necessary?”

“Just doing my job.”

“As am I.” He grinned. “Yours just comes with gadgets.”

“Shouldn't you mingle?”

“Yes.” He kept smiling at her. “Can I see the picture?”

She turned the camera and he took a step closer. His cologne was nice. Fresh, not too sharp. She showed him the picture. Not a good shot. He blinked in the photo, his face looked adorably dorky. But it was out of focus because of the lens. She deleted it.

He sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

He really was cute. Damn. “No problem,” she said. She lifted her camera again and looked for another motive.

Phil Coulson cleared his throat. “I didn't catch your full name last time …”

“May.” She photographed a group of politicians and business owners, looking serious while one of them was talking and gesticulating broadly. Soft light came from the window to the left of the group and it hit the speaker's face just in the right way. If Melinda remembered correctly, the woman was Germany's ambassador. “My full name's Melinda May.”

“Like the director of the CIA?” he asked.

She took a picture of a group of politicians laughing. “That's my mother.”

“Really? She's very impressive.”

“So is yours.”

“But mine isn't as scary.”

She glanced at him. “I'm gonna tell her you said that.”

“I didn't mean to -”

“She'll be so pleased.”

“You're a little scary too.”

Hearing him say that didn't hurt. She grinned and took some more pictures. It was nice, having him next to her.

“Aren't you worried about my security detail today?” he asked.

“I count four agents shadowing you.”

“Damn.”

“Excuse me?”

“I thought there were only two. Hand and Janovčik behind me, you know?” He squinted and looked around. “The other two are on the balcony there, aren't they?”

She just nodded and continued to take pictures of the crowd.

He sighed heavily. “My mother's insane.”

“At least you're protected.”

He sighed again. “Do you ever feel like the circumstances of your parents smoother you?”

Not so much circumstances as expectations. She grabbed her camera a little tighter.

“Of course not.” He snorted and shook his head. “I'm being silly.”

She let her camera sink. “I don't think you're silly at all.”

He took a breath and his face softened again. They smiled at each other.

“I should go, mingle,” he said then. “Maybe I see you later?”

“I still have to get a good photo of you.”

He grinned. “Until later then.”

She refused to watch him walk away. Instead she changed the lens on her camera again.

Two other people walked up to her from her left.

“Good to see you, May,” Hand said. She and the other agent now stood next to her.

Melinda glanced her old friend. “Good to see you, too.”

Hand's focus was fixed on Phil Coulson, who was now a few feet away, with his back to them and talking to the German ambassador.

“I'm agent Janovčik,” the woman to Hand's left said with a grin. “Hand's new partner. She doesn't trust me yet.”

Melinda snorted.

“Agreed,” Janovčik said.

Now Hand snorted. “She didn't say anything.”

“But she thinks you've got trust issues, like everyone in our line of duty,” Janovčik added, “Of course she's right. I will give you more time to get used to me.”

“You were right earlier. I don't like you,” Hand uttered.

Melinda rolled her eyes. “You two shouldn't flirt on duty.”

Hand gasped. “I'm not flirting!”

“You should try; it's fun,” Janovčik said.

Melinda grinned. “It is.”

“Are we talking about you and the son of the president now?” Hand asked.

Pardon? “I would never be so unprofessional.” She would not! She felt Hand's eyes on her.

She glanced at her and saw how Janovčik took a few steps away from them, giving them space.

“How are you, May?” Hand asked quietly.

“I'm not the one having to deal with a new partner.”

“I'll ditch her for you in a second.”

“No.”

“May …”

“I have work to do.” She nodded at her friend before she walked away from her former partner. Again. She pressed her lips together. She wished she could be different.

  
  


o0o

  
  


Noise surrounded him. People talking, glasses clinking, laughter. Phil hoped that money would flow just as the wine did tonight.

He concentrated on the words of the German ambassador. She was talking about the different sorts of bread that she missed from her home country. He forced himself to smile and nod when needed. This wasn't what he wanted now. Phil agreed, Germany had indeed a great assortment of different types of bread and the ambassador was a fine lady. She reminded him of his high school math teacher. He always had liked math.

But he would rather talk to Melinda again. Melinda May. The name suited her. Soft and strong at the same time. Just like the person.

He wondered what she'd say if he’d told her about the letter he had received this morning. A letter from Audrey. She wrote that she missed him. She wrote she wanted him to come visit her. And she had sent him a concert ticket for one of her concerts in Portland, two weeks from today.

Phil wasn't sure what to do with that. Of course he wanted to see her again. He had missed her in Germany. Her smile, her laugh. Just talking to her. Holding her hand.

But things were complicated. His life was this now, making small talk, making politics. This morning his mother had asked again if he had spoked to Belinda, the campaign manager. Belinda had left several messages on his mailbox, but Phil didn't feel like talking to her yet.

Audrey would hate the life of a politician. All the interviews and publicity. She had hated all of it even when he had been _just_ the president's son.

And Melinda seemed to be very private too.

When the Italian ambassador interrupted them, Phil was relieved, even more so, when the Italian ambassador had to pull his conversation partner away for a diplomatic matter. Smiling, he watched the two of them walk away.

“You're a hero,” someone said behind him.

“Excuse me?” Phil turned around to face a tall, black man in a black suit, wearing an eye patch.

The man squinted at him. “I'm well informed about the robbery you stopped at the airport.”

“Stopping a skinny teenager is hardly a heroic act.” Phil tilted his head. “Who are you?”

“Nick Fury, director of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. SHIELD for short.”

Phil's heart skipped a beat. “The agency Peggy Carter formed with Howard Stark after Captain America went missing in the late forties?”

“Indeed.”

“I thought SHIELD was a legend!”

“It's just a secret.” Fury grinned. “I'd like you to join us.”

Phil took a step back and frowned. “Is this a joke my mother set up?” Because this sounded too good to be true. SHIELD existed and he could be a part of what two of his biggest idols had created?

“This is a job offer,” Fury said. “Nothing as fancy as governor, of course. But you'd be in first line to keep the world save.”

“First line? Sounds like you're offering me to be canon fodder.”

“I'm offering you a more direct impact.”

Oh God, he wanted that! Phil pressed his lips together. But that wasn't his way. He would have so much power to change things once he'd be governor.

Fury handed him a card. “Give me a call when you're ready.”

  
  


o0o

  
  


He didn't need to call his campaign manager, he needed space. Audrey was still waiting for an answer from him. And then there was his encounter with Fury yesterday. He wondered if his mother knew about the job offer. He really didn't want to discus that with her. He already knew her stand on it. Change the system from the inside.

Politics.

He wished he could've discussed the matter with Melinda however. Whenever he talked to her, he could breathe. Was he even allowed to tell her about Fury’s offer? Probably not due to SHIELD being a secret agency and all. They hadn't talked again yesterday. Part of him was still disappointed because of that. She was the only one not trying to influence or manipulate him.

Hand and Janovčik didn't talk much, but this morning when they shadowed him outside to take a walk through Central Park, it felt like they and the five other agents under Hand's command were herding him, directing him with just their movement. He didn't like that. Not at all. He was not a damn sheep!

With some satisfaction he closed the door to the oval office in their faces, after he entered. Ever since he had returned, he constantly felt like a rebellious teenager. It was ridiculous!

He turned around to his mother, who sat behind her desk.

“Yesterday was ridiculous,” he said and walked up to her. “This morning was worse!”

“I think it went well!” She kept going through the files in her hand, tracking the lines of text with a red pen.

“Seven agents protecting me is overkill, mother.”

She looked at him with widened eyes.

And he glared right back. “Do't give me that look, you can't guilt trip me now!” He sighed. “I'm a grown man, I'm perfectly capable to take a walk on my own.”

Raising a brow, she leaned back.

“I know, I know …” He sighed. “ I'm the son of the president of the United States. I'm a target. Whatever.” He shook his head. “But this is excessive and unacceptable. I'm a grown man, I want to life my life.”

“Did you meet with Belinda yet?” she asked.

“Don't change the subject!”

“Belinda is very good at her job and if you want to become governor of Washington in two years, you need to get working.”

He crossed his arms. “Two secret agents for my security is more than enough. Hand and Janovčik seem very competent.”

Suddenly there was tension in her jaw.

Damn, he had known Maria had kept something from him! Damn it! “Are there threats against me?” he asked.

“Don't worry.”

“Then why the heavy security?”

She swallowed and kept his gaze a little too long.

“You can tell me, mom, I can handle it. What's going on?”

“It's nothing, really. There was an attempt to harm Laura Scully's last week at an event. The Secret Service prevented anything from happening, but still …” She shrugged and smiled embarrassed. “And now I'm just …”

“An overprotective mother hen?” Laura was the daughter of the vice president Scully. She was twelve.

“Guilty, I fear,” his mother said. “But if you could just humor me -”

“Mom,” he interrupted her. “I'm going to the MoMA tomorrow and Hand and Janovčik will be the only secret agents accompanying me.”

She wanted to say something, but he shook his head. “I'm a grown man. I'm not a little kid.”

“I know.” She sighed.

“So we have an understanding?”

“Yes.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will kill me, probably. But I love it. Thank you so much for your support so far! I know this is a slow ride in multiple senses … Life stayed crazy. As always, I’d love to hear from you!


	4. Museum of Modern Art, New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Melinda gets caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fries! I finally did it and completed this scary monster of a chapter! I hope you enjoy it. :)

 

Melinda stirred some honey in a fresh cup of ginger tea, when her cell rang again. This time she picked up.

“Hello,” she said.

“It’s Hill,” came the response. “But you know as much because you have caller ID.”

True. And the reason why she hadn’t picked up the first five times Hill had called. Melinda was in her little office at home, sorting through the photos from the fundraiser last night on her computer. Eventually she had gotten a few good shots of Phil Coulson. Right now she was looking at a photo of him laughing his mother that she had taken from the balcony. She would have to fix the lighting a bit, but otherwise the picture was perfect. Both, the president and her son looked relaxed and happy. The president had her hand on Phil’s shoulder and he had his head tilted a little.

“I’m not even gonna mention the thousand times I called and you didn’t pick up,” Hill added.

Melinda rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “Calling to offer me another job?”

“Yes.”

“Goodbye.”

“Liberty needs you.”

Well, that was new. “Excuse me?”

“The president’s son needs you to protect him.”

Melinda snorted. “As far as I've seen, he can handle himself.”

“Tori already told me, you two hit it off.” There was a grin in Hill’s voice.

Ridiculous. Melinda clicked to look at the next picture, taken just a split second after the last one. Now the president and Phil were both a little blurred. She deleted it.

“He can be cute when he's not making my job incredibly difficult by behaving like a porcupine,” Hill said. “It would just be for a day and you'd just have to watch over him from a distance while he'll visit the MoMA. And you do like art.”

Melinda straightened up. “At a distance?”

“Sort of undercover.”

“Undercover!?” She hated undercover!

Hill swallowed. “The president doesn't want him to worry.”

“So there are threats against him?”

“Serious threats.”

Her stomach knotted. “How bad is it?”

“Ever heard of Americans for America?”

Oh, crap. “AfA, a racist, aggressive underground organizations. Heavy on the weapons.” Melinda pressed her lips together.

“They want to make an example of eradicating the line of the president because she betrays everything they stand for. We have a mole inside the organization that tipped us off. Thus far no threatening letters.”

“And that worries you.”

“Well, you know, a dog that barks and all …” Hill sighed. “I just need you to watch over him for a few hours. Nothing will probably happen, but …”

“It's stupid not to tell him.” He could get seriously hurt. He could get killed.

“I told the president the same. She's stubborn.”

“What do you need?” she asked.

“You'll do it?”

“That's not what I said.” But she would. Because he was … He wouldn’t need her. It was just a boring babysitter job, really. But she would feel better making sure he would be ok. Besides, she had wanted to visit the MoMa again anyway.

“I need you to show up at the MoMA tomorrow,” Hill said. “Liberty will arrive there around 10 p.m. I have three other operatives in place at strategic points but he trusts you -”

“He doesn't know me!” He didn’t even know her!

“He trusts you,” Hill repeated sternly. “If something happens, I can count on you to get him out.” Hill sighed and smiled. “But nothing will happen. It's really just a highly overpaid, boring babysitting job, I promise.”

Melinda squinted. “How highly overpaid?”

  
  


o0o

  
  


Later Melinda’s cell rang again. With a sigh she picked it up. She hated being interrupted during work! She wished she could just switch the damn thing off completely, but a client might call. So she read the display and swiped the green phone icon to the left to accept the call.

“Hi, Tori,” she said. Her stomach rumbled. After this call would be over she really needed to order some pizza. It was already five p. m. and she hadn’t eaten anything since ten.

“Is it true that you’re back?” Tori asked.

“I’m just backup for the backup.” Melinda frowned. Maybe she would order spinach pizza. Or one with a lot of veggies. Yes! That sounded good. “ I’m not back.”

“Still good enough for me.” Tori sounded hopeful. Like she didn’t believe her.

Suddenly Melinda wasn’t that hungry any more. She swallowed hard. “Tori, I’m trying -”

“I know. I understand. I just miss you and I wish …”

“Wish for what?”

“That I could help.”

Yeah, because she so clearly needed to be fixed. Melinda pressed her lips together. “I have some more actual work to do.”

“Melinda, please -”

“I see you tomorrow,” she said. She knew she was being unfair. Another thing to feel guilty about. She wished she could fix herself.

“I’ll text you when we’re close,” Tori said.

“Bye.”

After they hung up, Melinda ordered pizza margarita. Her body still needed nutrition.

  
  


o0o

  
  


Melinda had just bought a full access ticket to the MoMA, when her cell chirped quietly to announce a text message. She had put it on vibrate for her babysitting mission. As suspected, the message came from Tori.

“Liberty’s in the parking lot,” the text read. Phil Coulson – no, the client _Liberty_ had arrived with Tori and Janovčik. Five minutes before schedule, but that wasn’t an issue.

Melinda slipped the cell back into the pocket of her leather jacket that she wore over a black tank top and black jeans. Comfortable clothing that didn’t restrict her movement and still provided some protection for her skin, if she would have to fight someone. - Not that this would happen. This was just a boring babysitter job because Tori was brilliant at her job and Melinda wasn’t the only undercover agent on sight.

She had already spotted two of her colleagues. A curly haired back woman that pretended to look at a painting right at the beginning of the exhibition and a man who sat at a bench in the middle of the first exhibition room, looking at another big painting. Both had placed themselves so they could keep an eye on the entrance through which Liberty would come in. The plan was for them to stay ahead of the client while Melinda would stay a little behind. After the first two rooms, they would switch positions.

Melinda walked into the first exhibition room. It was a big space with tall, white walls. It was filled with paintings. She worked herself through the room and looked at each painting. When she stood in front of the fifth and last big painting in the room, Liberty entered. He didn’t wear a suit today, but a brown leather jacket, a white shirt, no tie and jeans. He looked really good without a tie. From the corner of her eye she watched how he walked in and looked around before his gaze fixed on her.

“Melinda?” he asked and came up to her.

Her heart skipped a beat. He had spotted her way too quickly. Not even five seconds in and she was made. Crap! Melinda forced a smile on her face and turned around. “Mr. Coulson, hello.”

“It's Phil, please.” He smiled brightly.

“Hello, Phil.” Glancing over his shoulder, she could see Tori and Janovčik standing behind him. Tori was frowning, Janovčik pressed her lips together. Crap!

“Hi.” He kept smiling at her. “Did you see the exhibition yet?”

Crap, crap, crap! Her heart raced. At least her cover didn’t seem blown. He hadn’t accused her of anything yet. So she kept smiling too. “I just arrived a few minutes ago.”

“Me too!” He beamed and tilted his head. “Would you like to walk through it together?”

Melinda looked at the two agents behind him.

Liberty pulled a face. “It’ll be sort of a group thing but they are very discreet and professional. Gives you the perfect feeling of being watched and isolated.” He pulled in a sharp breath and smiled. “I’m kidding.”

No, he wasn’t. She understood. Since Seattle she could relate to that. She tilted her head. His smile became shaky around it’s edges and he swallowed hard.

“What do you think about this painting?” she asked and turned to the painting again.

“That I’d like to look at something else.”

She snorted. She felt the same. “Lead the way.” Since he already made her, her only choice was to make the best use of her intact cover and go through the museum with him.

The client was lovely company. Without talking about it, they just walked through a room on their own, so each could spent the most time with the art they were interested in before they moved to the next room together. They didn’t talk much at all. And he seemed perfectly comfortable with that.

Tori and Janovčik always stayed at the entrance of a room. Both of them had relaxed too, but Melinda was sure that Tori would have quite a lot to say about today’s events later on.

A big, white painting hung at the front wall of the fifth room they entered together. The painting almost took over the whole wall. The lighting above it hit the little dwells and hills of the paint on the canvas, creating soft shadows on it. Once she got closer, Melinda could see the single brush strokes in the white paint. Broad strokes painted quickly with a big brush. At some spots, the artist had used the brush so hard, there was only a thin layer of paint left on the canvas. Then there were these mountains of paint in different heights, like flat stairways. The whole painting still seemed in movement. She took a breath. Her heart suddenly ached. She wished she could be like this painting.

Eventually, Liberty stepped next to her. “This one’s sad,” he said quietly.

“Peaceful,” she whispered. She could feel his eyes on her and swallowed. “I like how gestural it is. When you look at it you can see how the artist moved to create it. It’s like a dance where you can see every step at the same time.” She pressed her lips together and she felt tension in her shoulders.

He didn’t say anything but just turned to the painting. His arm brushed against hers ever so briefly and she relaxed.

That was until he suddenly straightened up and cursed, “Damn,” he uttered under his breath and looked around the room. “She promised!” His gaze jumped around the room and his expression darkened.

“I’m so sorry to cut this short, but I have to leave,” he said to her. “It was lovely to see you again.”

She frowned. “Is something wrong?” she asked innocently. It was obvious that he had spotted two other agents. Damn it!

“I just have to leave,” he said apologetically. He smiled at her one last time before he walked out the room slowly. Tori and Janovčik followed him. Melinda tilted her head. At least he wasn’t so stupid to try to actually outrun them.

“He wants to run,” Melinda whispered to Tori when she walked past her. “Let me take care of it.” She had seen the look on his face after he had spotted the other agents. And she knew what it meant. He needed out. He needed a break. “Give us a distraction.” And she would keep him save.

Tori nodded, but Janovčik was faster to act. She tripped an elderly man ever so slightly, he stumbled and almost fell, if Janovčik hadn’t caught him. Both Janovčik and Tori made a big fuss about helping the man.

While they were busy asking the man if he had just suffered a heart attack, Melinda followed Phil into the next room and watched him take a hat that lay on top of a jacket on a bench. The man who probably owned both, sat next to it. But he was so focused on a painting, he didn’t notice when Phil lifted the hat to place it on his own head, nor when he slipped his hand into the jacket. First, Melinda thought he’d take that too, but then he just let it be and moved to the next room in a steady pace, blending in with the rest of the visitors.

Melinda caught up with him when he walked towards the exit. “You stole a hat,” she said next to him.

He flinched before he turned to her. “I paid for it!”

She raised a brow as they kept walking.

“I put money in the jacket,” he added and shrugged. It was obvious he felt guilty.

“Why did you steal the hat?”

“I’m on the run.”

She nodded slowly. “Can I come with?”

He grinned at her. “I could use the extra cover.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update will have to wait a bit, because I’m going to start posting a very special December Treat for all of you tomorrow. (I hope you’ll like that surprise!) This chapter almost killed me because I was so worried to get their characters right in the key scenes of Phil finally starting to run. I hope you enjoyed the turn of events! As always I’d love to hear from you!


	5. Central Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil feels like Harrison Ford.

 

He was crazy. He had missed riding the subway, which just proved his point further. He had lost his mind. He wore a stolen hat! But Melinda May stood next to him as they rode the subway. Nobody stared at him and he just felt normal. Even Melinda didn’t look at him. A stop ago, she had pulled her cell out of hear leather jacket and started texting. Probably work or something. Or her boyfriend. She didn’t wear any rings, so she wasn’t engaged or married. Then again, not everybody who was married or engaged wore a ring.

He pressed his lips together. The ticket for the Portland Philharmonic was sitting in the top drawer of his nightstand, as well as Nick Fury’s card.

Just one more stop and they’d be at Central Park. He should text his mother. Instead he had taken the batteries out of his cell, so secret service couldn’t track him. He had smashed the tracker in his jacket as soon as they had left the museum. Melinda had raised a brow at him, but hadn’t said anything. Now she put the cell back into her jacket, just in time to get of the subway with him. She didn’t say a word. He liked that they didn’t have to say much to each other. In politics people always wasted so many words with so little consequence.

He really should text his mother. She was probably worried.

Melinda and he walked out of the subway station and he enjoyed the first breath of fresh air. As fresh as a breath of air could be in New York. Blinking against the sunlight, he stopped and smiled. This was good. No tracker, no cellphone, just him and Central Park. And Melinda May.

A bicyclist rang her bell behind them, Melinda took his arm and pulled him to the side to let her pass them by. He liked that too. Usually his team of secret service agents would have prevented any bicyclist to get that close to him. His mother probably had ordered them to shoot bicyclists down on sight. Three extra agents? What the hell had she been thinking? They had a deal, damn it! Just Hand and Janovčik, she had promised him! That she had lied to him was the worst. Why didn’t she trust him? What did she think he would do? Run away? Well, there he was, running.

Being pulled aside by Melinda May was an extra bonus. She probably wasn’t married. But it was very likely she had someone. She was gorgeous so the chance of her being single was slim to non-existent.

She let go of his arm and he turned to her. In the black boots she wore today she was almost as tall as him. To kiss her he would only have to bend down a little. Which was unimportant because she had a boyfriend and he had taken up enough of her time.

“Thank you for this,” he said.

She smiled at him. “For what?”

“For running with me.” He tilted his head and smiled too. “I really appreciate it. It was lovely meeting you again.”

“Where are you going to now?” she asked.

Wait a minute … There was a sparkle in her eyes and she hadn’t stopped smiling since they had fled from the MoMA. “You’re enjoying this!”

She raised a brow and grinned. “I just watched the president’s son steal a hat.”

He gasped. “I told you I paid for it!”

“And you’re running away from your mom.”

“Technically I’m running away from the security team my mom hired.”

“Think they learned their lesson yet?”

They grinned at each other and he put his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “You probably have better things to do than to run from secret service.”

“I think you should be a big boy and call your mom.”

“I’m gonna text her.” He would. Eventually. But as soon as he’d put the battery back in, the secret service would swarm the place then minutes later. At least that had been what happened when he had been eighteen and had snuck out to meet a girl. Not the most romantic way to end a date.

She snorted. “How old are you again?”

Old and wise as he was, he ignored that comment. “You see, I’m enjoying this too. And I’m far from being done yet.”

“Oh, really?” She started walking through the park and he followed her.

“I feel like Harrison Ford in the Fugitive,” he said and pulled the hat to a lower angle. He felt free again. Like when he pretended to be Captain America as a kid. Like there were endless possibilities. He wasn’t ready to go home yet. The park was really beautiful. The sun was shining, it wasn’t too cold. This was good.

“Got a plan, too?”

Nope. No plan whatsoever. He pressed his lips together. He would come up with something. They walked towards a pretzel stand. He hadn’t had one of those since Munich last fall. “Pretzel,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

A pretzel would be good right now! He was kinda hungry. Getting a pretzel was the first step on what would become his plan. He walked up to the stand and looked at Melinda over his shoulder. “Would you like a pretzel?”

She frowned. “No, thank you.”

Smiling, he turned to the pretzel guy. “Just one, please,” he said and reached into his inner jacket pocket to grab two dollars to pay. And felt nothing. Because he had paid for that damn hat. He felt himself blush. “Do you accept card?” he asked and swallowed. “It’s platinum.”

Pretzel guy stared at him.

This was embarrassing! His palms started sweating.

“Here,” Melinda May reached out her powerful, strong hand and exchanged two dollars for a pretzel with the pretzel guy.

She offered the pretzel to him. “Enjoy,” she said.

“I’m so sorry about this.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled.

“As soon as I got to a bank, I’ll pay you back, I promise.” Still blushing, he took the pretzel from her. He frowned. “I really need to get more cash. Card leaves a trail, anyway.”

“Or you could go home.”

“Can’t. I’m on the run now.” Why hadn’t he packed more cash when he had left the house this morning? Probably because he hadn’t thought his mother had gone crazy protective. She had lied to him! Whenever he thought about it, he got mad. He bit into the pretzel.

“On the run to where?” Melinda hurried up behind him. He hadn’t even noticed that he had quickened his step.

He slowed down again. “Portland.” The ticket was at home, but once he had cash, he could buy a new one. He took another bite of the pretzel. It didn’t taste as he remembered from Munich.

But maybe Portland wasn’t such a good idea.

“Or Vegas,” he added. There was a big Captain America exhibition in one of the big hotels there. A show about his life, too! That might be fun.

Melinda raised a brow at him.

“I’m not sure yet.” Probably Portland.

“How will you get there?”

“Don’t know.” He felt dumb.

She sighed. “You should call your mother. She’s probably worried.”

She was worried because she had lost her mind! “I’m a thirty year old man!” he said and ripped a piece of the pretzel. “And she promised me that just Hand and Janovčik would shadow me.” And she had lied to him! “I spotted three other agents! Three! I’m a grown up, god damn it!” He had a brown belt jiu-jitsu, he had survived living a year on his own in Germany, he could survive a morning in the museum with just two agents to shadow him.

Melinda stared at him.

Damn. “I must seem like a crazy person.” He took a breath. “If you want to leave, I can totally understand.” He pulled up his shoulders. “Just give me your address and I’ll just mail your money back to you.”

She snorted. “The whole two bucks?”

“I’m sounding even more crazy.”

She lifted her head. “There’s a bank!”

“Excuse me?”

She gestured at a building. And it was indeed a bank. “I want my money back now,” she said and grinned.

Relief washed over him. She was amused! “Don’t trust me anymore?” he asked.

Her grin widened as she shook her head and his heart skipped a beat.

He nodded. “Smart.”

Together they walked towards the bank.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, it felt so good to get back to this story! Thank you all for waiting so patiently! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please let me know what you think?!


	6. Bank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Melinda makes a plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to everybody who has commented on this so far! I was so close to delete the whole thing again and again, and always your comments gave me new faith in this story.

With her cell in hand, Maria Hill entered the oval office to find Lian May already talking to the president. It only took Maria a moment to recover from her surprise. Of course Director May was here, it was her daughter out there with the president’s son. The president stood in front of her desk, hands on her hips and frowning, while the director of the CIA sat on one of the sofas with her hands folded and her legs crossed.

Maria focused on the president. “May just texted. They’re on the way to her apartment.”

President Coulson glared at her. “Bring him home. Now.”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Director May said calmly and rose from the sofa.

“Excuse me?” President Coulson raised a brow, everything about her posture was tense.

“Right now, Philip is off the grid.” Director May tilted her head. “Aside the people in this room and my daughter, nobody knows where he is or where he’ll go. If he wants to run, let him run. Melinda will keep him save.”

“Or you could tell him about the threats,” Maria added. “He’s not a fool. If he’d know, he would come back.”

“No!”

“Then letting him leave with my daughter is the safest option. If you force him back, he might run again. Next time possibly without someone to protect him.”

President Coulson took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Hopefully she would trust director May with that. This could be good for Phil. This could be good for May too.

“Ma’am?” Maria asked.

“Your daughter …” President Coulson swallowed and looked at the director. “You think she can handle this?”

May nodded sharply. “She can handle everything.”

“Lian -”

“I know you’re worried about your son. My daughter is the best. She can handle it.”

Maria nodded to that. Melinda May was one of the best agents she had ever met. Her instincts were spectacular and if there was someone to keep Phil Coulson safe, it might be her. At least he didn’t run from her and that was a great start.

President Coulson took another deep breath before she looked at Maria. “I want Hand and Janovčik to follow them. And I want daily updates on my son.”

“But we’ll let them go?”

“For now.”

  


o0o

  


She was in charge of Liberty’s safety. She was undercover. She should hate this.

Her client walked next to her with his arms dangling to his sides and a smile on his face. The sun was shining. This was nice. This wasn’t real fieldwork. This was something else. Literally just a walk in the park and he would be save and she would be ok. During their subway ride Melinda had texted her plan to Tori, so they could catch up. Fifteen more minutes tops and Phil Coulson would be on his way home, being none the wiser.

Then Phil stopped in front of a stand that offered a variety of bags and scarfs. He shoved his hands into his pockets, before he pulled them out again and sighed in frustration.

“Could you lend me five more dollars?” he asked.

She raised a brow.

“I need to buy a bag.”

For what exactly?

He glanced over his shoulder. “For the money,” he mouthed.

Oh, dear God. Was he kidding?

Smiling sheepishly, he shrugged. “Putting all of it in my jacket would be irresponsible.”

So instead - She searched the stand for what they offered for five bucks. - he wanted to put his money in a tote bag?

“Can you please just give me the money? I will give you back ten in return and I’ll even let you pick out the bag.”

So she’d get to choose between a black bag with a New York logo, a white bag featuring cartoony cat faces or a black one with an apple. Fantastic.

Then again, it didn’t really matter. Tori and the secret service would probably catch up with them before they would leave the bank. “You’re a prince,” she said dryly.

“Kinda.” He grinned.

She just looked at him.

“Son of the president and all …” he added, now a bit flustered.

She bit back a grin. He was adorable. But she had a job to do. “You should really call your mother.” This would go much smoother, if he just decided by himself to go home.

He looked at her with big eyes. “I’m gonna text her as soon as I got your money.”

That was something. Sighing, Melinda picked out a blue and grey messenger bag with a zipper and payed for it before she gave it to Liberty.

“That’s a twenty buck bag!”

She gave him a stern look. “But you gonna give me thirty.”

“Sometimes you gotta invest to make a profit?” He grinned and she grinned back.

Exactly.

With the bag over his shoulder, they finally made it to the bank. He got in line and she stood a bit aside where she had sight of him and the main entrance. Thirty two people were in the room. Five staff members at the counters, twenty seven assumed customers. None of them a threat.

She texted Tori again.

He was at the counter, when she got a text from Hill, ‘ _Stay on him as long as he wants to run. Keep me posted. Hand and Janovčik are ordered to follow you but to let you escape_ ’

Melinda frowned and glanced at Liberty while her fingers already typed out a reply, ‘ _You want me to stay undercover and run away with him?_ ’

‘ _Yes._ ’

Her body should react, but nothing. Her heat didn’t skip a beat, her palms didn’t sweat, her stomach didn’t cramp. She just started thinking. ‘ _I have an idea for a save way to travel, wherever he might want to go,_ ’ she texted back.

She deleted Hill’s messages and changed her name to ‘aunt Ria’ in her contacts, before Liberty returned to her.

He wore the bag as a cross body and held the strap in a tight grip with both hands. His eyes nervously wandered through the room and his forehead was sweaty.

“How much money did you get?” she asked.

He swallowed nervously as he kept walking towards the entrance. “Enough to pay you.”

she followed him. “Phil?”

“Enough to get me comfortably to where I need to go.”

Now he sounded like a criminal on the run. This really couldn’t be considered field work. This was a babysitter job.

“I’m not crazy!” he added. “I just …” He sighed. “I texted my mother, so I have to go before secret service gets here.” He quickened his step. Seemed like he was on his way back to the subway.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

He nodded slowly and nibbled on his lip. Then he snorted and shrugged. “I’m crazy after all.” He let go of the bag to run a hand over his face. “But I …” He sighed again. “I just have to do this. I have to.”

Alright, then. Time to set things in motion. “Camper,” she said.

He raised his brows. “Excuse me?”

“You think you got enough money to rent a camper for a while?”

“A camper!” His eyes widened. “That’s brilliant!” He smiled at her brightly.

She smiled back. So far, so good. And she wasn’t lying to him. She could be herself and he would be save. Wasn’t that a win for everyone? She glanced at him. He seemed to like her. And he was sweet. This was a good thing.

He stopped in his tracks. “Damn, they’re good!” he whispered.

She followed his gaze. Tori and Janovčik walked right towards them, but hadn’t seen them yet. Or more likely, they had but pretended they didn’t.

They both turned around.

“We should leave,” she said and pressed her lips together. She should’ve caught them before him. She needed to focus!

He smiled. “We?”

He had such a cute smile. Damn it. They walked back towards the bank.

“Any chance you could make a pit stop in Chicago?” she asked. “I have a job there in two days.” That was true. But if they’d make it to Chicago before he’d decide to return home, the secret service would chancel and set up some agents to play the part. At least that was how she would run it.

“You’d have to pitch in for gas money.”

“You can keep my thirty bucks.”

“You’re a princess.” Grinning, he quickened up his pace.

But she took his elbow. “Not too fast, that’ll catch their attention.” Though it would be good if they would chase them just a little bit.

“Right … right.” He slowed down again. “I’m new at this … “ He sighed. “But I trashed my cell, so there’s that.”

“We should get you a pre-paid one.” She hooked her arm under his and lifted a hand to wave at a taxi.

“Are they following us?” she asked.

“No.” He sighed. “I have to leave today.”

She could feel his nervous energy. “No problem. I just have to get my camera and my go bag.”

“You have a go bag?”

And that from the man carrying a messenger bag filled with money. A taxi stopped next to them and Phil opened the back seat door for her. He paled and straightened up. “They’re coming!”

Now Tori and Janovčik ran towards them. Tori still was a fantastic partner.

Melinda scooted over and looked up to Phil. “Get in!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, if you have the time to review, please do! I always love to hear from you. :)


	7. Brooklyn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil stands guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to everybody who has commented on this so far! This is my second update in three days, yay! It feels so good to get back into flow! I hope I can keep things up for you guys. :) Please let me know what you think! It really fuels my inspiration!

She lived on the third floor of a well maintained building in Brooklyn. The last time he had been in a building with such small floors had been in Germany. Everything about the White House was big, spacious and kind of public. There were always people around. This felt more private. When she opened the door, he stayed outside. Melinda May was a private person and he wasn’t sure if he was allowed in her space.

She left the door open and he could see a big room. A metal desk on slim legs stood under the big window that was covered by white curtains. The desk was empty except for a laptop. The white single bed stood in the middle of the room. One wall was covered with closed up build-ins. The only real color of the room came from the night blue chair in front of the desk. Nothing on the walls. On the wall across the bed was another door, probably leading to the bathroom. The whole apartment looked like it was still waiting for its real furnishing.

Melinda walked around the bed and opened one of the build-ins, when she glanced at him over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

He adjusted the messenger bag on his shoulder. Once more he felt like a fool in her presence. “Standing guard?” he tried.

She raised a brow. “You look like a vampire waiting for an invitation.”

“You like vampires?”

“No.”

But he could see her blush. He grinned. “Yeah, you do.”

She focused back on the build-in and reached up inside of it. “Just come in and close the door behind you.”

He did as told. When he looked at her, she put a big, black sports bag on the bed.

His eyes widened. “You really have a go bag!”

She reached under the bed and pulled the camera bag he had met her with from under the bed. “It became a habit with my old job.” She put the camera bag on the bed as well, before she got up.

“Old job?”

“CIA.” She didn’t look at him, just walked to her desk and sat down.

“The family business?”

“Yes.” She opened the laptop.

“Why did you quit?” He wondered if she had done field work. Maybe she could tell him some things. Not that the CIA and SHIELD had lots in common, but still he was very interested.

She started the laptop and pressed her lips together.

Something had gone wrong for her, he could feel it. Damn. Having that insight before putting his foot into his mouth again would’ve been better. He pulled up his shoulders. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.” Maybe she understood his situation better than he had thought. They both had very strong mothers …

“It’s just …” She sighed and glanced at him. “It wasn’t for me.” She typed something.

He nodded. “You don’t have to explain.” Of course he was curious, but he was happy just to have her company. He didn’t want to push his luck. Instead he walked up to her. “What are you doing?” he asked.

She gave him a look and he took a breath. His timing was killing him! But then she grinned.

“I’m looking for a camper to rent,” she said.

Yes! Fantastic! He smiled at her. “You’re very smart.”

She snorted. “So … two beds, kitchen and bathroom?”

“And GPS,” he added and put down the messenger bag. The seven thousand dollar in it were getting heavy.

Twenty minutes later, she had booked a camper online. In two hours they could pick it up from the rental, where it would wait for them with the tank full of gas.

She leaned back in the chair and looked up to him.

“You can pay them in cash once we get there,” she said.

Fine with him. “So … two more hours. What should we do?” he asked.

She stood up. “You need clothes.”

“Shopping it is.” He nodded at the bed. “Want me to carry your stuff?”

“There’s a Walget around the corner, we could go shopping, return to grab my stuff and then take the subway to the car rental.”

“Or we could take a taxi.”

She frowned.

“I’ve got a bag full of money.” He lifted it from the ground and smiled.

She snorted. “Not for long if you keep spending that.”

“Just be grateful you won’t have to carry all your camera stuff through the subway.”

“Good point.”

  
  


o0o

  
  


Five minutes after Melinda and Liberty had ‘escaped’ in a taxi, Tori’s cell finally rang.

“Hand,” she answered it. Janovčik watched her closely, hands in the pockets of her trench coat. They still were in Central Park, close to the street. It would be no problem to catch a taxi and go where May would need them next.

“May’s on the way to her apartment,” Hill said, efficient as always. Tori liked that about her.

“Another team of agents will take over for a bit,” Hill added. “Stay put until I call.”

“Understood.” With a sigh, Tori hang up. “Hill said to wait here for new orders,” she said. Waiting was the worst of their job. Having to follow and observe Liberty hasn’t been thrilling, but at least it had purpose.

Janovčik gave a short nod. “I need coffee.”

“Excuse me?”

“Would you like a cup? I’m buying.”

“Are you serious?”

Janovčik looked at her with pity. “Would you rather just wait around without coffee?”

True. “I take mine black.”

Janovčik smiled.

“What now?”

“Just think you should allow yourself some sugar.” With that and a smile, she started walking.

What was that supposed to mean? Was she flirting with her now? Unbelievable. And yet her stomach did a little flutter. Pressing her lips together, Tori followed her. What else could she do?

Not far from here they had seen a coffee stand. And Janovčik was right. Coffee wouldn’t hurt. This would be a long day.

Tori sighed when she saw the long line at the coffee stand. Hopefully that was at least an attestant to the quality of the coffee. At least twenty people would be served before them, but the black haired, beautiful woman who ran the shop worked quickly.

Janovčik got in line, while Tori stood aside and checked her cell for news. She flinched, when it rang in her hand.

It was Hill again. Yes! Meanwhile Janovčik had made it to the front of the line.

Tori answered the call, “Hill?”

“May and Liberty plan to travel to Chicago by camper,” her boss said. “They’ll pick up a renter in two hours. May bought us enough time to give the camper some updates.”

“Bullet proof glass, reinforcing gas tank and wheels?”

“Plus adding a tracker.”

“Perfect.”

“You and Janovčik need to get your go bags, we already have another camper for you to go.”

Another camper? “You’re kidding.”

“The thought of you in a camper amuses me, I admit.” There was a smile in Hill’s voice.

Tori watched as Janovčik took two paper cups of coffee from the coffee shop woman. Their hands touched and Janovčik said something that made the woman laugh. Always such a flirt! And everybody just seemed to love her. Tori gritted her teeth. “You really want to condemn me to a camper with Janovčik?” She was just so … annoyingly charming. It was unprofessional. And her hair was too shiny.

“Keep Liberty save, I text you the address where you can pick up the camper.” With that, Hill ended the call.

Cups of coffee in hand, Janovčik stopped in front of Tori and tilted her head. “Did you just try to get rid of me?”

Tori sighed and put her cell into her jacket. “We have two hours to get our stuff before we hit the road. We’ll be shadowing May and Liberty in a camper. You can still get out.”

Janovčik squinted at her. “Enough!” she hissed. “I worked hard for this. I’m good at this. I’ll see you at the meet up. Buy your own damn coffee.” And she walked away again.

This time Tori’s stomach felt knotted. Damn it.

 


	8. Walget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Melinda gives fashion advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who commented on this so far! You gave me hope and strength when I was ready to give up on this story. Thank you!  
> This chapter is for Meredithchandler73, because she did such good work today and also because she's just such an overall wonderful and supportive person. Thank you, friend! I hope you enjoy this. :)

There were no immediate threats. She might’ve been out of the game for two years, but she had never stopped evaluating rooms for possible danger. But ever since Seattle, it was always her who was the biggest threat. It was why she stopped. Why she just took pictures.

Can’t kill anyone with a snapshot, can you?

But this wasn’t Seattle and she wasn’t here to prevent an explosion to preserve hundreds of lives. She was just here to babysit a highly capable man on the run. Nobody except her, the president and a few handpicked people of the secret service knew where they where.

And she had home field advantage. This Walget was the place she bought most of her things.

It was almost empty, except for a few customers, including a couple, who seemingly couldn’t decide on what kind of socks to buy. Ever since Melinda had accompanied Phil and his cart of clothes to the changing cubicles, they stood in front of the sock display and studied labels.

The man, a tall blonde hunk, had worked with Melinda before on a case. Adam Damon had been with the FBI back then. She didn’t know the dark skinned woman next to him, but if she was here, she must be good.

Phil stepped out of the changing cubicle for the tenth time in a row. Like the nine times before, he got in front of the mirror next to the cubicle, granting Melinda a look at his lovely behind. Melinda fought the urge to grin. This shouldn’t be fun, but it was. He was.

Especially in that outfit. Good thing he had saved it for last, because there was no way to top it.

He frowned and pulled the pink and purple checkered shirt out of the bright orange cargo pants he wore. Then he put it back into his pants as his frown deepened.

“Are you sure about this?” Phil glanced at her while he turned in front of the mirror.

“Nobody would recognize you in that.” And the pants had a nice fit. Not that she cared, because this was still a job, after all. And she was a professional.

Uncomfortably, he tugged at the shirt and turned around to her. “But everybody would look at me!”

People already did. “Because you look ridiculous.”

His eyes widened as it dawned on him. “You’re mocking me!”

“At least you’re not as stupid as you look.” He had picked so many different styles of clothes to try on, she hadn’t been able to resist to make her own suggestions. And it was all worth it. She grinned.

“Funny,” he said, deadpanned

Hilarious! Her grin widened.

He squinted at her. “I no longer take fashion advice from you.”

“The first pair of jeans looked good on you.” she said.

“You’re just saying that to get back in my good graces.”

Nope. Just to tease him a little more. Though she spoke the truth. That first pair of jeans had looked particularly good on him.

Her cell vibrated in her jacket and Melinda pulled it out. Once she saw the caller ID she wished she hadn’t.

“Someone clearly isn’t in your good graces,” Phil said.

“My mother.” Why did she tell him that? She declined the call and put the cell back in her jacket.

He just looked at her, wearing that ridiculous outfit.

She pressed her lips together. “It’s complicated.”

Because her mother thought this was something it was not. She thought Melinda was something she was not. Not since Seattle.

“I’m not judging!” Phil held up his palms. “I just reserved a camper to get away from mine.” He sighed. “I’m gonna change real quick.”

With that he turned and got back into the changing cubicle.

“I’ll be over in the pharmacy section,” Melinda said. It was just next row and always staying right next to him could make him suspicious.

Damon and the other agent had moved on to looking at a display of sunglasses on the left of the changing cubicles. Next to it was a stand with fake glasses. Fittingly, right next to that was a stand with beanies.

“Could you pick up some toothpaste for me?” he asked and poked out his head from behind the curtain of the cubicle. “And a toothbrush? And deodorant? Oh, and a razor?”

She raised a brow.

He swallowed. “Or I could get those things myself.”

Exactly!

She went to the next row and looked at the make up display. She didn’t really need anything, her go bag held everything she might need. But a new lipstick never hurt anybody. She picked one in a lovely shade of red and returned to Phil, who was standing in front of the sunglasses, the cart with two simple shirts in it, one white, one off-green, and that pair of jeans Melinda had recommended. The rejected clothes, including the purple pink shirt and orange cargo pants lay on the counter.

The agents stood in the aisle with cereal, one row to their left. So far their cart was filled with two pairs of black cotton socks and one pair of sunglasses with a red frame. They would probably fill their cart with a few more things to avoid suspicion.

He picked a pair of aviator with a metal frame and looked at himself in the tiny mirror of the display. He must’ve caught her reflection in the mirror, because he turned around.

“Those don’t look like toothpaste to me,” she said and nodded at the sunglasses. She dropped the lipstick in the cart, on top of his shirts.

He let the glasses slide down his nose and looked at her over the frame. “Did you just put a lipstick in my cart?”

“Putting it in my pocket could be misinterpreted.”

“You could get your own cart.” He turned around and switched sunglasses.

Melinda glared at the cart and crossed her arms. “I hate those things.”

“How can you hate something so practical?” he asked, now wearing big black sunglasses with circle shaped glasses.

“They’re annoying, always in the way and a hindrance to my movement.”

She couldn’t see his eyes through the glasses, but she saw his mouth twitch.

Well, maybe she was being a little silly, but she just didn’t like carts. There were stranger things!

He chuckled and gave her a pitiful look. “You can leave it in there.”

“Thank you.” She sighed. “The aviator ones suited your face better.”

He placed the ones he wore back on the display and dropped the aviator ones in the cart. Then he moved to the stand with fake glasses. “Now I just need Clark Kent glasses.”

He couldn’t be serious.

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Because I need to go undercover, like Superman.”

“Yeah, got that.” Such a dork. She sighed, stepped next to him and took a pair of glasses off the stand. Rounded glasses, black frame. She offered them to him.

He smiled. “Perfect!”

She snorted. And to think that without hipsters, this wouldn’t be possible …

He put the glasses in the cart and together they moved to the pharmacy section, where he picked out all the things he listed before.

“You can go and shop around on your own, if you like. We could meet in front of register four in ten minutes?” he said after he dropped shaving cream into the cart.

“I’m done.”

“What about groceries?”

She shook her head. “We better pick those up after we get the camper.”

“Could you go and pick out a prepaid for me, then?” He swallowed nervously.

She raised a brow. Was he trying to get rid of her? Was her cover blown?

He pulled up his shoulders. “I need to pick out underwear.”

Oh dear! She grinned. The agents were still around, should they protect him while he picked out tidy whities. “I’ll get you a cell.”

Still, she hurried to get the cell and then wandered into the candy aisle, which was next to the aisle where they kept the underwear. Just in case.

Her cell vibrated again. Already displeased, she pulled it out of her pocket.

It was “aunt Ria”.

Without hesitation, Melinda answered the call, “Make it quick.”

“Where is he?” Maria Hill asked.

“The aisle next to me.”

“The camper is prepped.”

She smiled. “That is quick!” Must’ve made a difference that orders had come from the president herself.

“Call me once you’re on the road.”

“Will do.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is killing me! I have no idea why this thing is so hard to write, but it is. The long breaks clearly didn't help so now I'll try a different approach. It's fanfic marathon time! I hope to update this story once a day until it's complete.  
> Writing Dimension Slip like that was such a great experience, and I could've never done it without your wonderful support. And for this beast of a fanfic, I need you more than ever. Because frankly it's kicking my butt. So please, if you have the time, leave a comment. They're the energy bars and bottles of water I need!


	9. Car Rental

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil picks a name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for all your amazing support! You guys are wonderful. :)  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

The messenger bag with the money hung heavy over his shoulder. Once he would step out of that car rental, it would feel lighter. To rent a camper with the extras they had booked for two weeks cost a small fortune.

With Melinda May next to him, he walked towards the house. Towards his adventure. He had a good feeling about this. It still felt nuts to just run, but also right. Especially with the beautiful photographer at his side.

Watching the grey boxer briefs he had picked for himself go over the register with her next to him, had been a bit embarrassing, especially since he thought he heard her mumbling something about tidy whities as he paid for everything, but still. It was good to have her with him.

Even necessary for his next step.

He had offered to help her carry the camera equipment, but she wanted to carry the tripod, that was packed in a black tube and the camera bag herself. Getting to help her might’ve made it easier for him to ask for a favor himself. But so, he used a different tactic.

He reached into the new black sports bag, that held all the new things he had purchased at Walget, and pulled out a chocolate bar.

“Here.” He offered it to Melinda, but she just raised a brow.

He smiled his best smile. “Would you please sign for the camper?”

“Is this bribery chocolate?” She squinted at him, but he could see the corners of her mouth twitch.

He looked at her with big eyes. “Please, if I sign for it, my mother’s hounds will find me in no time and my new identity doesn’t have papers.”

She raised her brow again.

“Since I can hardly travel as Phil Coulson, son of the president, I’ll go by Steve Carter.”

Not even a muscle on her face flinched.

He swallowed. “For Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter, you know.” The name had seemed so cool to him in the taxi, now he felt a bit silly.

Instead of saying anything, she just nodded and smiled.

“So will you sign the papers for me?” he asked, hopeful again.

Their fingers brushed against each other as she took the chocolate bar from him. She opened it and took a bite. “If you run off with the camper, I’ll just call your mother.” She grinned.

There was a bit of chocolate on her upper lip he longed to kiss away. Yeah, not a good idea. He sighed. “That’s cruel but fair. I accept your conditions.”

He opened the door for her, when her cell rang. She pulled it out of her jacket, declined the call and put it back.

“You can take it,” he said.

“It’s fine.” She pressed her lips together and walked past him through the door. “Let’s get your camper.”

He wished he could just ask her about who was calling. Her mother again? It seemed like the relationship between her mother and her was just as complicated as his relationship to his mother.

  
  


o0o

  
  


Half an hour later all the papers were signed and the friendly owner Stacy had given them a quick intro to driving the camper and a tour of everything in it. After she left, Phil and Melinda looked around.

Behind the drivers’ seat was a little seating area with a small table. Next to it was a tiny kitchen area and across from that, the bathroom. The back of the camper was taken over by two single beds divided by a small corridor between them. Everything was made out of light wood and it smelled like citrus. The bedding was white, a peppermint wrapped in foil rested on each of the two pillows.

She had traveled worse than this.

“You get first pick of beds,” Phil said and put down his bags on the seating area.

She snorted and walked up to the beds. “Such a gentleman.”

“Just afraid you’ll call my mom otherwise.” There was a smile in his voice but it sounded forced.

Her heart skipped a beat before it continued in double speed. Did he know? Not turning around, she dropped her bag on the right bed, before she bent down and pulled out the drawer underneath it, in which the placed the camera bag and the tripod. “Did you call her again?” she asked as innocently as she could.

He sighed. “I don’t know what to tell her … so, no.”

Her heartbeat normalized. He didn’t know. Her cover was still intact. She hated lying to him, hated it. But it was the job. And she would keep him save. Getting emotionally involved was no option. Like that ever mattered. She turned around.

He still stood at the table, his shoulders slumped.

“We can still stop this,” she said.

“Just drive that camper right up to the White House?”

“We could make it in less then five hours, depending on traffic.”

He pressed his lips together and there was something in his eyes that was all too familiar to her.

She nodded. “Okay, settle in.”

His eyes widened. “I’m not -”

“Groceries first, then Chicago.” She walked past him and sat down in the driver’s seat.

“Hey! I wanted to drive!”

She looked at him over her shoulder while she fastened her seatbelt. “I signed for the thing, I drive it.”

“I paid for it!”

“You can drive after Chicago.”

She turned on the engine, switched on the radio and punched the address into the integrated GBS.

With a sigh he took his bags and put them beneath the left bed, before he returned to the seating area, sat down and fastened the seatbelt.

The radio started playing Country Roads, as Melinda drove onto the street, so she switched stations until she found one with classical music. For a while they both listened to Händel’s Water Music while she drove.

“Why are you doing this?” Phil asked eventually.

Because it was her job to protect him. Because he deserved a friend. Melinda drove up to a red light, stopped and looked at him in the rear view mirror. “Because I know what it’s like to just have to run,” she said.

“Thank you.”

  
  


o0o

  
  


They stopped in another Walget for groceries. Ten minutes in and the cart that Phil pushed in front of him was already filled with goods.

“So we’ve got fresh fruit, bread, ham and cheese,” he listed as he put a loaf of sliced white bread into the cart. “We still need eggs, milk and coffee.”

Melinda wrinkled her nose. “How can you drink that stuff?”

He looked at her with a smirk. “I have a Captain America mug to help me with that.”

Such. A dork. She snorted. But a cute one, she gave him that.

“What do you drink?” he asked.

“Tea.”

“We’ll get that too.”

“No need. I have some in my go-bag.”

“You have tea in your go-bag?”

“Yes.” She took a box of Cornflakes with honey and nuts from a shelf next to her and put it in the cart.

Her cell rang again, but just once. A text. She pulled it out of her pocket and made sure he wouldn’t be able to see her display. The text came from “aunt Ria”.

“Call your mother, she’s driving me nuts!” Maria had texted.

Melinda bit her lip. She wouldn’t be able to avoid her mother much longer. She already knew what her mother was going to say and she didn’t want to hear it.

“Everything ok?” Phil asked.

Melinda put on her pokerface. “A client canceled a session next week,” she lied to his face. Her stomach tightened. “I could’ve used the money.” Then she smiled. “But at least that means I won’t have to work after Chicago for another week.”

“Have you ever been to Portland?” he asked.

“What’s in Portland?” she asked. Maria had briefed her about Audrey already, but she couldn’t let him know that.

“They have a great Philharmonic.” he said.

A Philharmonic, in which his ex girlfriend played. Melinda wondered if maybe all this might simply be about heartbreak.

  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think?! Your comments really give me the motivation I need and are highly appreciated!
> 
> EDIT: Forgot about Melinda's camera equippment so I added it by editing magic! Sorry about that!


	10. Interstate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they get to know each other.

 

Ever since Tori got the call from Hill to get ready for a longer mission, the atmosphere between Janovčik and her had been tense. More tense than before. And it was her fault.

They had left New York behind an hour ago and Janovčik hadn’t said one word ever since they had met to get into the camper. Not even a hello. While Tori had signed for the camper, Janovčik had thrown her go bag on the left of the single beds in the camper before sitting down in the drivers seat.

Now they were driving over the interstate towards Chicago, ten minutes behind Liberty and Melinda.

They probably had more fun. Not that fun was the point of it, but this tension became unbearable.

Tori took a deep breath in preparation of her next word. “I’m sorry I was such a cactus.”

Janovčik glanced at her while she drove. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry I was such a cactus. Such a prick.”

Janovčik looked at the road ahead and swallowed.

Tori sighed. “You were right, I wasn’t fair. I’m just …” She sighed again. “I took personal stuff out on you and I’m sorry.”

Janovčik glanced at her again. “You love her?”

“She’s my partner.” Or was her partner. Ever since Seattle, Tori felt like she had lost her. Melinda just seemed so sad all the time. No, not sad. With sadness she might’ve been able to deal, maybe even help. But Melinda was just distant. Withdrawn.

She had no idea how to help with that. Tori pressed her lips together.

“I’m sorry.,” Janovčik said and glanced at her again. “Must be hard for you to watch her with Liberty.”

Tori laughed as the realization hit her. “You think May and I …?”

“Aren’t you two …?” Janovčik wiggled her eyebrows.

“Did you just ask me if I have a girlfriend?”

“I just like to put my foot in my mouth every once in a while.”

Very smooth. Was she flirting with her? Or just being friendly? “May’s just a friend,” Tori said. Her heart pumped just a bit faster. Probably just the adrenalin of having to say I’m sorry earlier. Nothing to worry about. She wouldn’t behave like a cactus again and ergo wouldn’t have to apologize again and this would just be work.

Janovčik switched through the stations of the radio, sighed and hit the play button for the CD player.

When the hell did she put a CD in it? She must’ve because music started playing. Tori scrunched her nose.

She knew that song! And she was not a fan.

When she tried to switch to the radio again, Janovčik swatted her hand away.

“I drive, I pick the music,” she said.

“That’s not music, that’s Disney.”

Janovčik raised a brow. “You have no appreciation for the classics.”

“Frozen is less than five years old, that hardly qualifies as classic.”

“I also have some Snow White songs on there.”

Seriously? “Now you’re just cruel.”

Janovčik grinned. “Consider it punishment for being a cactus.”

  
  


o0o

  
  


Driving so far had been smooth and uneventful. Just boring.

Phil leaned sideways and looked at Melinda, who was still driving the camper. “So, tell me about yourself,” he said nonchalantly.

She squinted at him over the rearview mirror.

“This will be a two day journey, that’s a good time to get to know one another, don’t you think?”

She looked back at the road.

He wouldn’t give up that easily. “What’s your favorite place to travel to?”

Still no reaction from her.

“Fine, I start. Is it lame if I say Manitowoc?” he asked. “It’s like a vacation at home. I love leaving it, too. I enjoy traveling in general. Do you like traveling?”

“If my company isn’t too chatty.”

“Okay, then.” Message received. Phil settled back in his seat and folded his hands.

She sighed heavily. “I like traveling to big cities,” she said. “They all feel similar in a way, the many people, the anonymity. But every city is its own, too.”

“You’re right.” He turned back to her. “Munich was very different from New York and New York felt different to Rome.”

“But Chicago has the best pizza.”

His eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“I like thick crust!”

“Can’t find that in Rome.”

She smiled at him over the rear view mirror. “No, you can’t.”

He nodded. “I like big cities too. I just don’t like traveling there alone. Always feels like I’m an anomaly in a huge organism. Just kinda …”

“Lonely.”

“Yeah. Being alone and being lonely isn’t the same.”

“It really isn’t.”

“Felt lonely a lot in Washington. Just … stuck.” He pressed his lips together. He wasn’t quite sure what caused this. His mother being irrational about his protection detail, the pressure to get his political career started … A mix of everything, probably.

“You think, this will help?” he asked.

“Do you feel better?”

Here, in this camper while she drove? “Yes.”

“There you go.”

  
  


o0o

  
  


Around seven a clock Melinda drove the camper onto a motorway station and parked as close to the exit as she could. If things went wrong, they could leave quickly, it also made it harder for anyone to get them trapped here.

Phil got out of the camper and stretched. The air that came in was fresh and cool.

The parking are was mostly empty, just two more cars and one truck. Melinda hoped it would stay this way.

It had been a long drive. Some Tai Chi would be nice now. And food. God, food! She was starving! Her stomach rumbled to underline her point. She should check in with Tori and Hill. As soon as she had eaten something, she would.

Fortunately she had prepared for just that situation. She got off the drivers seat, stretched a little, too and went to a cabinet in the kitchen area. Once she got there, she opened it and took out the box of cereal she had bought earlier. She tore the box open at the top and quickly opened the plastic bag before she reached in and pulled out a full hand of tasty, delicious cornflakes.

Phil returned into the camper while she took her first mouth full. The taste was so good! Her eyes went shut and she sighed. This was the good stuff! Nutty and crunchy and sweet because of the honey. Chewing blissfully, she opened her eyes again, she found Phil looking at her with a deep frown.

“Do you really want to eat that before dinner?” he asked.

What was he talking about? She swallowed and reached into the bag again. “This is dinner.”

“No,” he said slowly. “I’m gonna make a frittata with bell pepper and tomatoes.”

That sounded delicious. Suddenly the cereal wasn’t as satisfying anymore. “You can cook?”

“You can’t?”

“I have cereal.” She pulled out of the box, leaving the cornflakes in it.

He just gave her a pitiful look.

“You really gonna make a frittata?” she asked.

“It’s be fluffy and delicious and fresh.”

“When?” Her stomach grumbled again.

He laughed. “As soon as you give me the eggs.” He nodded at the cabinet.

She closed the box of cornflakes, put it back and took out the carton of eggs. “How long will it take to cook?”

He took the eggs from her and their fingers touched. “You think you can handle to wait another twenty minutes?”

Twenty minutes she could do. “Is it ok if I make a few work calls in the mean time?” she asked.

He smiled. “Sure, go right ahead.”

She should call her mother too. With a sigh, Melinda opened another cabinet and took out some plastic plates. “Gonna set the table first.”

Letting her mother wait for a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. All in all she didn’t want to spent more than ten minutes on the phone, including her calls to Tori and Hill.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter in three days, so far so good! I could've never written so much in such a short amount of time without you! Thank you so much for your support! Let me know what you think of today's chapter?


	11. Motor Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Melinda makes three calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support! You guys are epic! I hope you enjoy this!

The Motorway station was surrounded by trees. The air was clear and the sun still shining. Melinda took ten steps away from the camper. Out of hearing distance but not too far away to keep her from getting to him quick, if she had too.

She pulled out her cell from her jacket.

The first call was the easiest. Melinda called Tori first. She had changed her contact name to just “Tori” while in the subway with Phil. He only knew her former partner as agent Hand.

Tori answered the call after the fourth ring.

“The motor station is too empty but the area is secured,” Melinda said instead of hello. Always straight to the point, that was how they had always handled things on their missions.

“Copy that, we’ll stay back.”

There was no other choice. If they would drive here as well, Phil might discover them and it would be hard to explain to him how they had known where he was and why they were traveling in a camper too. He wasn’t stupid, he would know she had betrayed him. - Because that was what it would feel like to him. Which was another reason why she hated undercover work and another reason not to get too close to him. It would only make it worse for him when he would find out.

“I text you five minutes before we’ll start driving again,” Melinda said. “Probably around seven tomorrow morning.”

“Copy that too.”

She hung up. First call done.

Next, Melinda called “aunt Ria”.

Hill was even quicker and picked up after the third ring. “Can you talk?” she asked.

“Yes.” Melinda glanced at the camper. She had maybe needed three minutes to set the table, she still should have some time before dinner would be ready. “We’re at a motorway station, everything is secure. He’s fine.”

“Tell that to the president.”

“Excuse me?” There was some rustling.

Then, “Agent May?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Holy crap. Her heart skipped a beat and she took a breath. Melinda recognized the voice. She was talking to the president of the United States. She was talking to Phil’s mom.

“How is my son?” the president asked.

“He’s save, ma’am.”

“But _how_ is he?”

Melinda swallowed. “Thoughtful, confused. Angry with you.” No use in sugar coating it.

The president sighed in resignation.

“You should tell him about the threat,” Melinda said. “I think that would make him go home.” With some truth, this could end tonight. And he deserved the truth.

The president cleared her throat. “Is he save with you?”

“Of course.” She wouldn’t let anything happen to that man in the camper.

“Then just continue to keep him save.” She sounded exhausted. “Where is he now?” she asked then.

“In the camper, cooking dinner.” Melinda glanced at it again. It already started to smell really good, like roasted bell peppers. “I don’t have much time, ma’am.”

“Alright.” The president sighed again. “Goodbye, agent May.”

“Goodbye, Mrs. President.”

After she hung up, Melinda closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. This was such a mess. And she should hate this so much more. And Phil was sweet and he trusted her and he wasn’t an idiot. He would be able to handle the truth if someone would just give it to him.

Mothers could be so complicated.

Taking another deep breath, Melinda called her mother.

Five rings in and her mother picked up.

“Mom, it’s me.”

No response.

“Mom, are you there?”

“Waiting for an explanation,” her mother said dryly.

She sighed. “I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“Got that. But why?”

“Because you think this is me getting back to normal.”

“Aren’t you happy to be back on a mission? To do _real_ work?”

And there they went again. Her palms started sweating. She was working. She was working all the time; leaving the house, trying to sleep, talking to people, remembering to smile. She was always working. “Mom …”

“Just …” Her mother sighed. “Just take your time, yes?”

What was she supposed to say to that? She wanted to just tell her that she was fine. That she was happy and perfectly unbroken. But that wasn’t the truth and this was exhausting. “Yes.”

“And be careful.”

“Bye, mom.”

 

o0o

 

She came back just in time for dinner. She thanked him for cooking, she praised the frittata. She said please and thank you and was overall obnoxiously polite, if she talked at all.

Not that she seemed to be much of a talker anyway, at least not since he knew her, but still. Something felt off. “Everything ok?” he asked as he lifted the empty plate in front of her to stack it on his.

“Let me do it,” she said and took the plates from him before she stood up and collected the cutlery on the plates. “You made dinner, I do the dishes.” She carried the dishes over to the sink in the kitchen area, set them down and ran water over them.

Something definitely wasn’t okay. Maybe another business call that hadn’t gone to her liking? But this seemed more personal. He sighed and followed her, leaving their glasses on the table. The bottle of red wine he had opened wasn’t empty yet, he doubted he would finish it tonight. He had offered her a glass, too. But she had declined, saying she didn’t drink any alcohol. She stuck to sparkly water.

He watched her put soap onto the dishes. “It doesn’t have to be ok, you know? Sometimes things just … aren’t.”

She pressed her lips together, took a sponge and started cleaning.

He sighed. “My last break up was rough too. We just wanted different things, I guess.”

She frowned at him. “I was talking to my mother.”

“Oh.” Super smooth, Coulson. Damn. He cleared his throat. “My last conversation with my mother was rough too. Wanting different things and all.”

She snorted. “I guess she isn’t thrilled you’re here.”

He pulled up his shoulders and grinned. “She called me by my full name, including my middle one.”

“That’s never good.”

No, it hadn’t been. Their talk had been brief and tense and unsatisfying. “Why is yours displeased?” he asked.

“We have a … disagreement about my choice of work.”

Because she had pushed her into following her footsteps? Phil could definitely relate to that. She put one plate to the side and he took it to dry off with a towel.

But Melinda had changed things. She had made a difference for herself.

Nick Fury’s card was in his wallet.

“Are you happy?” he asked.

She frowned at him again.

He swallowed hard and sighed. “I’m sorry, I just …” He sighed again. “I think I should be but I’m not, you know? Haven’t been since Audrey and I broke up.”

“I think I’m okay. Not happy, but … okay.”

“Did leaving the CIA help?”

Melinda pressed her lips together and focused on cleaning the cutlery. “It was a necessary step for me,” she said then.

He nodded.

This was a necessary step for him. As silly and as ridiculous as it might seem. He needed this. And he saw no other way. Not yet.

  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think!?


	12. Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they run.

Nights were the roughest. She always saw the girl’s face. The surprise in her eyes after the gunshot.

Melinda took a deep breath and focused on her movement and on the green trees surrounding the motor station. She needed to get into the moment. She needed to calm. After two minutes of Tai Chi in the early sunlight, her heart was still racing. Her back was covered in cold sweat.

A shower would’ve been lovely, but it was half past five in the morning and Phil was still asleep. So instead of showering, she had switched into her sports gear and had gone outside for Tai Chi. That usually had a calming affect on her.

Now she stood a few feet away to the side of the camper. She still had an overview off the motor station, but everything was quiet.

She had never needed much sleep. Three to four hours were enough for her.

A year after Seattle, she stopped waking up screaming, so that was good. The nightmares were still the same.

She took another breath and continued with her routine. Slowly, her heartbeat settled and she felt calmer. When her routine neared its end, the door of the camper opened and Phil stepped outside, wearing sweatpants and a loose green shirt. There was a light stubble on his chin, so he hadn’t shaved yet.

He smiled and started stretching his body. He stayed quiet until she wrapped up her routine.

“Good morning,” he said then. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Good morning.” She smiled, too. “You didn’t.”

“I’m going for a little run, would you like to join me?” he asked, tilting his head.

For obvious reasons, she nodded. And besides protecting him, a two mile run was part of her daily morning routine whenever she wasn’t too busy with a photographing job. Running always felt good. She didn’t need a therapist to understand the meaning of that. She knew what was wrong with her. Talking about it couldn’t fix it. Nothing could.

He set a decent pace and had no trouble keeping up with her. This was nice.

They jogged alongside the tree side of the motor station, when he ran towards a little path that lead through them and away from the station, she briefly touched his arm.

“Too many mosquitos,” she said.

He frowned, then nodded. “Two rounds around the motor station, then?”

She smiled in agreement. She had no idea if there where indeed mosquitos in these woods, but the area would be too secluded. If Tori and Janovčik would be here to back her up, maybe. But not like that. There were just too many things she couldn’t predict.

“Thank you,” he said.

For protecting him from mosquitos? She looked at him and raised a brow.

“For not telling your mother where I am,” he added. “Not telling her though she’s probably looking for me must’ve been hard and I really appreciate that.”

Oh, crap. She swallowed hard. “I just did what I thought was right.” She hated lying to him. She made a fool out of him. And he deserved better.

But this was the job. And this time, nobody would die. That would be enough.

  
  


o0o

  
  


The only thing that made camping bearable to Tori was that Janovčik hated it even more.

It was six in the morning and Tori sat on the driver’s seat, holding a mug of freshly brewed coffee in one hand and binoculars in the other.

They had parked the camper half a mile before the motor station on the sidelines of the interstate. She could see Melinda and Liberty running around the motor station. Everything was calm.

“Damn it!”

Except for the cursing that came out of the tiny camper bathroom.

Tori grinned.

Then there was a clunk.

“I hate this!” Janovčik hissed before she came out of the bathroom.

Tori looked up into the rear view. “Everything okay?” she asked.

Janovčik rubbed her elbow and glared at something in the bathroom. “Everything is so tiny. Everything in here is so freaking tiny! Stupid tiny camper!”

Tori’s grin widened. This was delightful!

Now Janovčik glared at her. “How can you be so relaxed? You’re taller than I am!”

“But less clumsy, as it seems.”

“I’m not clumsy, the camper attacked me.”

Tori pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.

“This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing!”

“You laughed when I fell out of bed.”

“Because that was indeed funny.” Tori couldn’t suppress another laugh as she thought about the thud and the groan that had interrupted her sleep this morning. But there were less entertaining ways to wake up than to find Janovčik lying on the small corridor between their two single beds, her red hair all ruffled, wearing black, silken pajamas. The elegant sleepwear was a nice juxtaposition to her overall appearance. And the look on her face had been priceless.

Now she was freshly showered, her red hair still wet and she wore black, tight jeans and a loose white blouse. Janovčik huffed.

“There’s fresh coffee,” Tori said to smooth things over.

“You and your bad taste of humor are forgiven.” Janovčik said and sighed.

“Such relief!”

Janovčik chuckled.

Yeah, this wasn’t too bad. Tori could hear her partner rustling around in the kitchen, while she looked through the binoculars again. Melinda and Liberty where still running.

With a mug of coffee Janovčik sat down behind her.

“Why did May stop working?” she asked.

Tori let the binoculars sink a bit and and pressed her lips together. It had been a sunny day in Seattle. A happy one. For most people, it had ended happy too. And she had lost her friend though Melinda had walked out of that mall alive.

Janovčik sighed. “Something happened, something bad.”

Tori swallowed and lifted the binoculars up. Now Melinda and Liberty passed the camper again. A second round. “She won’t talk about it.” Melinda had barely talked to her, ever since. Sometimes months went by without any word from her. The first year had been worse. The first year Tori had still tried calling and Melinda just hadn’t answered the phone for weeks. Now she had switched to sending her mails just to keep her updated. Sometimes she got one in return. Occasionally, she got a call.

“And you worry about her,” Janovčik said quietly.

Of course. All the time.

She could feel Janovčik’s hand on her shoulder, a short, tender touch, a gentle squeeze. Then she pulled her hand away.

Tori pressed her lips together and watched her friend run.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your support! Please keep it coming! I always love to hear from you guys. :)


	13. Chicago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Melinda takes pictures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to crazymaryt who made a writing pact with me to keep going and for being an awesome friend. Big thanks to Meredithchandler73 and pooritalianfan for being such a wonderful support system even though they both have a lot going on.
> 
> Yesterday was weird and I dealt with it by watching movies. If anybody's curious: Mom's Night Out is a blast to watch! 
> 
> But today I'm back! I hope to get two chapters out and here comes the first. Please let me know what you think! That always gives me a rush of energy. :)

After running, he made them pancakes for breakfast while she finally got to take her shower. He really was a good cook; the pancakes had been just as delicious as the frittata he had made them the evening before.

Now, that everything was cleaned up again, he was taking a shower and she could finally make an important phone call. Again, she got outside of the camper for a bit more privacy.

As usual, “aunt Ria” was quick to pick up.

“How are things?” Hill asked.

“He’s taking a shower now. We should start driving again in half an hour.”

“We replaced your customers with two agents. Have you told him anything about the job you’ll do?”

“No details, yet.” That would’ve restricted their options too much and staging a big wedding reception with just agents was less then practical. Taking him to the actual event wasn’t much off an option either. But she was quite sure she could persuade him to join her on a little job.

“Good,” Hill said. “Can you do an engagement shoot in Millennium Park?”

“Yes.”

“I just sent you pictures of the two agents playing the couple and a fake background story for them.”

“Good.” Everything she needed, then. Going into this shoot unprepared would’ve been manageable, but this was better. It would make it easier for all of them to fool Phil into believing that they had met before to organize the shoot.

“How are you doing?” Hill asked, now a little hesitant.

“I’ve got this,” she said. She looked at the camper. She wouldn’t let anything happen to him. She _got_ this.

“Good.” There was a smile in Hill’s voice.

After they ended the call, Melinda used her smart phone to check her mail to find she had a new mail from one “Ria May” titled “Pictures of the rosebushes” with two attachments. Melinda grinned and opened it.

She had less then five minutes to look through everything, before the water stopped running in the camper.

Time to get this show back on the road. She texted Tori the emoji of a car and got back in.

  
  


o0o

  
  


“Would you mind if I tag along?” Phil asked. He sat behind her in the camper as she drove them towards Chicago. This went much smoother than she could’ve hoped for.

“Why not?” She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him before she quickly focused back on the road. The shoot would be in three hours, which wouldn’t be a problem at all. That he just wanted to come with her was the cherry on the cake.

“I always wanted to see the Millennium Park. I didn’t have a chance to go yet,” he said. “Do you think the couple would mind?”

“Jamal and George are very relaxed. I don’t think they’ll mind.” They would only mind if she would show up without him! The info material that Hill had sent her had also included some background on the two agents she would be working with. Both Jamal Ross and George Anderson were trained in close combat and had experience as bodyguards. This wouldn’t be their first undercover mission, so they had some experience with acting too.

“You think you could introduce me as …” Phil stopped himself.

She glanced at him over the rear view. “As Steve Carter?”

He pressed his lips together and pulled his shoulders up. “As your boyfriend?”

He couldn’t be serious. “Is that another spy fantasy of yours?” she asked dryly.

He sighed. “If somebody recognizes me and tells the press, my journey might end here and I can’t risk that.”

“Because of Portland?”

“I know I ask a lot of you,” he said quietly, “and I understand if you want to just get to Chicago and get out but if you could just …” He swallowed. “I have no one else.”

“You’ll buy me pizza afterwards.” She squinted at him.

He smiled. “As much as you want.”

  
  


o0o

  
  


Ross and Anderson played their parts perfectly. They seemed like a happy couple in love and Melinda got some great pictures of them in the park. Phil had been a great help, too and had held the flexible silver light reflector, she always kept in the roll with her tripod, like a great assistant.

The weather assisted too and the sky was covered with a light layer of fluffy white clouds, that kept the sunlight from being too harsh.

“We’re so exited to see the end results!” agent Ross said after Melinda had shown them the shots on her camera. He was a tall black man with a bald hair and great cheek bones. His “fiancee” Anderson was of Korean ascent and just as tall with short black hair. They both wore jeans and checkered shirts and they both had their bikes with them.

According to the backstory Melinda got, they both had met on a bike marathon through Chicago two years ago, so Melinda had photographed them driving on their bikes, holding hands, kissing each other whilst holding their bikes and so on …

There were no incidents, everything was safe, the parameters secured. Fortunately Phil had been too busy assisting her to notice the five other agents surrounding them. A man on a bank there, two women doing yoga over on the grass and two other women on bikes. With Tori and Janovčik somewhere around here too, they were ten agents protecting Phil.

“This is exactly what we had in mind, right, George?” Ross squeezed Anderson’s hand. The four of them stood in a sort of circle on the grass, with the bikes lying on the ground next to them.

Anderson smiled brightly. “I can’t wait for my mom to see these!” he said.

Phil smiled warmly at her. “She’s very talented, isn’t she?”

Damn him, he was a good actor too. Just the way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

She pressed her lips together and turned her camera off before she focused on Ross and Anderson. “I will sent you a pdf with the photos tomorrow, so you can pick which ones you’d like to buy.”

“That sounds fantastic,” Anderson said and looked at Phil. “Did you two set a date yet, Steve?”

At least “Steve” had the decency to blush, while he gently ran his hand over her back. “It’s still pretty fresh and I don’t want to scare her off.”

Ross smiled lovingly at his partner. “I knew the moment we met that I wanted to marry you.”

Anderson teared up a bit and kissed him gently on the lips.

Those two deserved an Oscar.

Melinda cleared her throat and Phil pulled back his hand. “We don’t want to keep you two any longer. I’ll mail you.”

“And we see you at the wedding?” Anderson asked.

She nodded. “I’ll bring my best camera.”

 


	14. Bill's Diner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil makes good on his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day! I hope you enjoy this one.

Going undercover as her boyfriend was such a stupid, juvenile idea. Fun and practical in theory, since he hardly could’ve passed for an assistant with as little equipment as she had brought. But he had felt her tense up under his hand, not much, but noticeable to him. He had apologized ten times and she forgave him ten times. During the last eight, she had rolled her eyes at him, which made him feel a teeny bit better.

She maneuvered them to a little place called “Bill’s Diner” near Millennium Park. He stopped at a little shop on the way there and bought a postcard. She gave him a funny look, but he shrugged it off. He could hardly explain to her that he needed to write a postcard to his ex girlfriend because of her.

He knew he probably didn’t stand a chance. He didn’t even know if she was single. But he knew that he wouldn’t be getting back together with Audrey. Not when he felt the way he did about Melinda May.

Watching her work had been so impressive. The way she had gently directed the two men to get the photos they had wanted. She just felt so real to him.

Now she sat across of him in a booth of said diner. The seating was red pleather and worn out, as were the paper menus. The white paint on the walls could use a refreshing, too. But the many paintings of pizzas in various styles, sizes and colors gave it an interesting flair. Melinda had told him that the owner himself was their creator.

The waiter cleared their plates.

She had been right, the deep dish pizza here was delicious, but he wouldn’t say that it was better than Italian pizza. They were too different to compare. “Would you like another slice?” he asked.

She leaned back in her chair. “No, thank you.”

“How about dessert, then? Pie?”

“No, thanks.”

“Ice cream?”

She snorted. “Phil.”

“I’m really sorry.”

She rolled her eyes. “So you said. And I forgive you.”

He sighed and shrugged. He didn’t want there to be anything between them. He wanted her to know that she could trust him. “I’m just …”

“A bit of a mess.”

Such a mess! “That’s not very nice to say.”

She grinned. “You have cheese on your chin.”

Perfect. God, he was smooth when he was around her. Smooth like a crocodile’s back. He tried to wipe the cheese of the face. Fortunately for him, he messed that up too, because she reached up and did it herself. Just cradled his face and wiped away the cheese with her magnificent thumb. Like it was nothing. His heart was racing and he had never wanted to kiss a woman so badly.

“Come with me to Vegas,” he said when she pulled away. Maybe he would never get to kiss her but the thought of having to part with her today was too sad to bear.

She raised a brow. “Vegas?”

He nodded. “There’s a Captain America musical and an exhibition, too. We could go.”

Blank stare.

“Or not.” He swallowed. He wasn’t selling Vegas very good.” There’re other things too,” he tried again and smiled. “It’s Vegas, after all. Did you ever gamble?”

“What about the Portland Philharmonic?”

“Can’t compare to Vegas, don’t you think?”

She frowned at him. “What’s your plan?”

Plan? Oh, dear. He snorted. “By now you should now I’m pretty spontaneous.”

“So, Vegas?”

“You won’t have to pretend to be my girlfriend again, promise.” He really wished he’d know for sure that she didn’t have anybody else. He put his hands on the table.

She grinned at him. “It’s not like you jumped me.”

That wasn’t the point. “But you were uncomfortable. I don’t want that to happen again.” He would never want to cause her any harm. He just wanted to be close to her. As close as she would want him too.

“I wasn’t the one who blushed.” Her grin widened.

And he felt better. Being mocked by her was the best reality check. He rubbed his head. “Yeah, for a spy I need to work on my game face.”

“Will you let me drive?” she asked.

His heart skipped a beat. “So far that worked out well for me.” Did that mean she would come with him?

“I always wanted to see Vegas.”

“Another big city you could add to your list.”

She smiled.

“Is that a yes?” he asked. He couldn’t stand the tension any longer.

She nodded. “Since that job got canceled, I might as well take a vacation.”

  
  


o0o

  
  


They were back on the road and he couldn’t be happier. They had bought some more groceries in Chicago so he could make her pancakes for breakfast again. She could wake him in the middle of the night after a long hard day and he’d still happily get up and cook her any sort of breakfast food she’d desire.

Another thing he’d better not tell her.

“I really want to see the Captain America exhibition,” he said. Because it was such a superior topic. He turned into a fool around that woman. Worse, he couldn’t keep his private thoughts private. Normally he had a good filter. Growing up in the public eye with a political ambitious parent would teach you that early on. But with her, he just let down his guards. Sooner or later that would bite him in the ass, he could already feel it.

“I read an article about it, it looked very in-depth,” she said.

Could she be any more wonderful? “He was my hero since I was little,” he said. “He still kinda is.”

“Yeah, mine, too.”

His eyes widened. “Seriously?” He wished he could see her face better, but she kept focused on the road and only glanced at him over the rear view mirror. She had such beautiful eyes.

“He wanted to protect and serve. He really lived that.”

He nodded. “I admire the values he stands for and that he was never just loyal to a system but had a finely tuned moral compass that navigated his actions.”

He thought he saw her smile.

“What do you think about SHIELD?” he asked then.

“His shield? Hinders movement.”

Just like shopping carts? He grinned. He should leave it like that. She would just think he’d be crazy if he’d keep talking. Or she might understand.

“I mean the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.”

“Peggy Carter was my other hero. My mother told me so many stories about her.” Now there definitely was a smile in her voice. And something else. Something soft.

“As a child I wanted to be her,” she said.

“Me too.”

She turned and gave him a look over her shoulder. It made him laugh.

“Captain America is wonderful, but he had to deal with too much press and fuzz in,” he said. Protect and serve. That was what he had always wanted as a kid. Be a hero, too. And he had Nick Fury’s card in his wallet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your support and please let me know what you think!?


	15. Nebraska

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they have car trouble.

Of course it rained when their camper broke down. They were in Nebraska already, maybe an hour away from Lexington. The whole time they had been on the road, weather had been friendly and sunny, but as soon as the camper started to make weird noises, more and more clouds appeared. Fortunately they still made it to a motor station without the camper collapsing. When Melinda drove the camper onto, the first drops started to fall.

And as irony would have it, there was something wrong with the radiator. A valve had gotten loose and they had been losing liquid. The owner of the motor station had lend them some of her tools. Turned out that Melinda was also quite equipped when it came to car mechanics. Car mechanic had always been a hobby of his and together they had fixed the camper in under an hour. It took them fifteen minutes to figure out the problem, then the rest was easy. Of course at the end of it, they were both soaking wet.

He really liked working with her. Not much fuzz, just the minimal amount of words and very efficient.

Being the gentleman he was, he let her take a hot shower first. After he got out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over his hair, she already sat in the drivers seat.

He sat down behind her, fastened his seatbelt and she started the engine. It purred like a tiger. - This was a camper after all.

They both smiled at each other.

“How do you know so much about cars?” he asked.

She drove off the motor station and back onto the interstate. “I took a few courses on the Farm.” She glanced at him over the rear view.

“My father taught me. Well, not really.” Phil shrugged. “He loved classic cars. I remember watching him work on a beautiful red corvette, before he passed. He would explain the mechanics to me, pointing at everything. But I was not even five back then.” He hadn’t thought about that in a while. He shook his head. “Anyway, when I got older, I would read books and bug our chauffeurs to teach me things. Mechanics always make sense and there’s a solution to every problem. I like that. Sometimes the solution is to switch cars, but still. Much simpler than politics.” He sighed.

“How did you quit?” he asked.

She glanced at him again.

“I mean, with your mother being the head of the CIA, there must’ve been a lot of pressure on you to follow her footsteps. How could you break free from that?” Because he would really like to do the same.

She didn’t answer. She just stayed quiet. And there was something wrong. Her hands almost strangled the steering wheel. He was such a fool!

All their conversations, the way she could fight, the way she had talked about Peggy Carter and moving freely and protecting people. She hadn’t joined the CIA because of her mother. She had quit because something had happened. Something bad. He should’ve seen this before, but he had been too wrapped up in his own mess to realize.

“Melinda …” He sighed, a bit helpless. “I’m sorry, I’m talking too much again.”

“It’s fine.”

No it wasn’t.

She glanced at him again. “Well, not fine. Tolerable.”

“If you want me to listen for a change, I can do that,” he said. He would love to.

She gave a short nod, pressed her lips together and kept driving.

  
  


o0o

  
  


Thanks to the tracker Tori and Janovčik had no trouble following Melinda and Liberty. When that dot on the GPS stopped moving, they speeded up. They got Melinda’s text about the car troubles and drove onto the same motor station, but stayed behind to observe them with the help of their binoculars. There were thirteen other cars at the motor station, including two more campers, so the risk of them being spotted wasn’t too high. And with Liberty’s camper unable to drive, it was smarter to stay close by in case they had to get him out of there.

Now they were driving ten minutes behind them again. Tori drove. Ever since that Disney incident, she hadn’t allowed Janovčik close to the wheel. She still couldn’t get that Lion King song out of her head. Hakuna Matata, her ass.

Janovčik sat behind her with crossed arms, while Sting sang about fields of gold on the radio.

“You drive like my grandma,” Janovčik said.

“Then she must be an excellent driver.”

“Just very, very slow.”

“I’m driving the limit.” What was wrong with that? The limit was there for a reason.

Janovčik sighed. “May’s driving faster than you.”

“No, she isn’t.” If so, Tori would adjust.

“I think Liberty’s falling in love with her.”

“Excuse me?” What kind of pace change was that?

“I think Liberty’s falling for May,” Janovčik said. “He no longer wants to go to Portland and see his ex and the way he looks at her.”

“We barely see them directly, how could you judge how he looks at her?” Tori asked, mostly just to spite her. Because she was getting the same impression.

Over the rear view mirror, she could see Janovčik shrug. “I’m that good.”

Tori snorted.

“Do you think, May feels the same?”

“She’s too much a professional to act on it.”

“Not what I asked.”

Now Tori shrugged. Melinda had changed since they started this. Though she was uncomfortable being undercover, she was the same focused, professional, badass agent that Tori had remembered her partner to be. And she seemed less sad. Maybe it was because of him. Or maybe it was simply because she was getting back to the thing she was born to do.

“I think she flirts with him,” Janovčik said.

Tori raised a brow. “Like you flirt with me?”

“Exactly.”

Tori could hear the smirk in Janovčik’s voice and felt herself blush.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your wonderful comments so far! You are wonderful! I'm gonna try and update twice again today, so I could really need a boost of motivation! Please leave a comment. They're still the best energy snacks I ever came across!


	16. Larissa's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they read the news.

Nope. Not a mistake. He read the headline three times now and it still said the same: “ _The president’s son, Philip Coulson (30), spotted in Manitowoc. - Is he homesick or campaigning for a seat at the senate?_ ” Phil picked up the newspaper and handed the counter clerk of the gas station fifty bucks. Enough to pay for the gas and the newspaper.

“Keep the change,” Phil said without looking up. His heart was racing. He wanted to rip that newspaper to shreds.

The man in the picture underneath the headline looked like him – at least whilst wearing big sunglasses and a cap. What the hell was going on?

“Watch it!” Melinda said and pulled him back before he could walk into a shelf filled with chocolate bars. Saving him once more.

She kept her hand on his shoulder while she guided him out of the shop and towards the little diner called “Larissa’s” that was attached to it. At least the roof was hanging over the path in between, so they didn’t get wet.

He turned the newspaper around to her and pointed at the article . “Have you seen this?”

She frowned and read while he held the paper for her. Then she nodded. “Good.”

How could this be good? He wasn’t anywhere near Manitowoc! Oh.

But still. He gritted his teeth. “I think my mother hired someone to hide my absence and to further my career.” More deception. More politics. He hated that.

Melinda tilted her head. “What did you expect her to do after you just ran off?”

Good point. He took a breath. “Maybe not lie for once? Is that too much to ask?”

She raised a brow.

And he frowned. “I’m not naïve, just fed up.”

Her expression softened. “I understand.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. It was past seven p.m, they had stopped at another motor station, it was still raining, he was starving and he had just read about his impersonator in the news paper. They had been driving almost the whole day and his body was already tense from that. “This is getting more and more ridiculous.” 

“Do you want to call the press and correct their mistake?” she asked.

“Not funny.”

“Little bit,” she said and smiled. “Now come on. I’ll buy you a burger.” She opened the door to the nearly empty dinner. Everything was clean and sparkly. The whole diner looked as if it was taken right out of the fifties. It smelled like fries and bacon and he already felt a bit better.

“Can I get some fries, too?” he asked and dumped the newspaper in the trash at the door.

“That and a milkshake, if you like.”

“Very generous.” 

“I expect you to buy me lobster, once we’re in Vegas.”

“Shouldn’t have told you about the bag of money,” he mumbled.

“Without me you wouldn’t even have the bag,” she whispered right back and he laughed.

He followed her to a booth that was close to the door but not directly in front of a window. She seemed to prefer these kinds of spots. Maybe something else she had learned at the farm. He hoped she would eventually trust him enough to tell him what happened. But until then, this was good, too. She was good for him. He still was angry at his mother for the political stunt he pulled, but Melinda was right, too. This worked in favor of his own cover.

A waitress in a red puffy skirt, white shirt and sneakers came over to their table. Her ponytail bounced as she walked.

“Hello, you two,” she said. “My name’s Mindy. How are you doing?”

“We’re great, thank you,” Phil said and smiled at her. “How are you?”

“Wonderful!” She smiled right back at him. “Did anybody ever tell you that you kinda look like Phil Coulson? He’s so cute.”

Oh, crap. His heart skipped a beat. He really should start wearing his Clark Kent glasses.

“Thank you so much!” Melinda reached over and took his hand before she smiled at Mindy, too. “We’re moving to Vegas, so he can work as an impersonator, isn’t that right, honey?” She squeezed his hand.

He forced himself to smile. That Melinda was touching him and giving him nicknames wasn’t much of a help, but he managed. “Indeed.”

“That’s so exciting!” Mindy said, beaming at Phil.

“We just read that the real Phil Coulson is in Manitowoc right now,” Melinda added cheerfully. “We would love to get a picture with him.” He had never heard her that cheerful before.

  
  


o0o

  
  


The food really had been good, but Mindy paid a bit too much attention to their table for his taste. Melinda gave Mindy a decent tip and they all wished each other the best.

Back in the camper, they sat down at the table, across from each other.

“Just for the record,” Phil said, “this time the girlfriend experience was completely your fault.”

She frowned at him, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “Girlfriend experience?”

He pulled up his shoulders. “Not the best choice of words.”

“Lets just refer to it as me saving your ass, again.”

His gasped. “I could’ve handled it!”

“You froze.”

“I made a dramatic pause.”

“Because you froze.”

He grinned. “But I recovered nicely!”

“Yeah, you did.”

They smiled at each other.

“I liked the cover you came up with,” he said. “Might use it from now on.” The whole pretending to be somebody he wasn’t felt familiar, but this was a twist in his favor.

“Be my guest,” she said.

“Talking about guests …” He took a breath. He had wanted to talk to her about something, but the newspaper had messed up his groove. While she had filled the tank, he had looked at the map on the GPS. They would drive past Richfield, Utah tomorrow. He didn’t have many friends, but he had some in Richfield. He was sure his mother’s people had contacted Clint and Natascha about his whereabouts already, but he was also sure that they would never tell on him. And he hadn’t seen them since before he had gone to Germany.

“I have another spontaneous idea, If you’re up for it,” he continued.

She frowned at him.

“Have you ever been to Richfield?” he asked.

“What’s in Richfield?”

“Good friends of mine. I haven’t seen them in a while and if you don’t mind the stopover, we could visit them.”

“Wouldn’t they mind?”

“I’d call ahead to make sure, but I didn’t want to make any arrangements without asking you first.”

“Who are they?” She leaned forward, her arms crossed and resting on the table.

“Their names are Clint Barton and Natascha Romanov. Clint and I studied together at the same college. We shared a dorm room, first year. And we met Natascha at a jiu-jitsu class.” He really wished she’d say yes. He would love to see those two. “They both think I talk too much, so you can bond over that.”

“They sound like fun,” she said.

That sounded promising. “They really are.” He smiled at her. “So are you up for it?”

She smiled too. “Make the call.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for everything! I'm soo tired now, I hope you enjoyed this. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. (Also, can I get a Wooohoo for posting four chapters in two days? Do you like the quick updates? Do you like the quick updates or should I go slower? I'd like to try to get two more chapters out tomorrow, so let me know what you think!)


	17. Utah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil confides in a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not updating yesterday. Life went a bit crazy and not sleeping very well for a week eventually claimed its price. Having troubles with the plotline because of a new idea wasn't helping either. Today was still a bit crazy and I had to restructure the rest of the story, so that took some time. And on top of that, I was simply terrified to write for Nat and Clint. I don't want to mess up their characters!  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you so much for your support so far. It's really what keeps me going.

She shouldn’t like him as much. He was a client. Not even that. He was a mission. But he was sweet and she liked when he watched her run through her Tai Chi routine and how they had the same rhythm while they jogged.

After their run this morning, he was now taking a shower. She could hear the water running.

He always smelled good.

Melinda stood outside the camper, a few feet away, her cell phone already in her hand.

It was still early. Like the morning before, she had started the day around five and he had been awake and ready to run at six. The other motor station had been nicer. This one lacked the trees surrounding them. But this one had more visitors. Enough to hide inside the masses. She had already spotted Tori’s camper in one of the parking spots.

It was always good having back up close by. Last night Tori and she had exchanged a few brief texts, so she didn’t need to worry about her, but there was another call she had to make.

With a sigh, she dialed “aunt Ria’s” number.

As always, Hill was quick to answer, “You have madam President, director May and me.”

“Hello.” Oh, dear God. Her stomach clenched. Talking to the president and her mother was stressful enough, but talking to both at the same time? Her palms started sweating.

“Liberty is taking a shower, I’ve got fifteen minutes, tops.”

“Then we make it fast,” her mother said. “What about your car trouble?”

Always straight to the point, always professional. Good qualities in an agent, not so great in a mother. “Just a loose valve, we fixed it.”

“How is my son doing?” The president sounded worried. And a bit guilty.

“He thinks this is an adventure. He’s excited to meet his friends and excited to go to Vegas.” “He isn’t pleased with the news about Manitowoc.”

Hill sighed. “We plan to draw out the AfA.”

Melinda had guessed as much. She would’ve done exactly the same. The double was probably a trained agent, who actually knew that his life was at risk. “Any progress?”

“Not yet,” Hill said.

“We could still tell him the truth. He’s very -”

“No,” the president cut in sharply. “Just keep him safe.”

“Of course, ma’am.” That was her job, after all. And he was a good man. Worthy of protection. But also worthy of trust. He was smart and very capable and He would hate her once he’d find out what she was really doing. He would feel totally betrayed by her. She pressed her lips together. She had to worry about other things first. “I need background checks on Clint Barton and Natascha Romanov,” she added. “He wants to visit them this evening.”

“They’re old friends of his,” the president said. “I had them vetted as soon as he met them. They’re no danger to him.”

“They’re the good guys, May,” Hill chimed in. “They have a Private Investigative Agency in Richfield and they just busted a big drug ring on their own. Thanks to them twenty kilo of cocaine got confiscated and five drug smugglers are under arrest.”

“I can confirm,” said her mother. “I vetted them for a job.”

There was something else, Melinda could her it in her mother’s voice. There was a tone in it, just at the very end, that told her, there was more. “But … ?” she asked.

“No but.”

“No, I heard the but, too,” the president said.

“Fury had the same idea,” her mother said, sounding annoyed.

Lian May didn’t like Fury very much. The few times Melinda had met director Fury he had seemed just as controlling and secretive as her mother. Which was most likely why her mother didn’t like him.

But this was good news to her. If two agencies had vetted them, they must be good people and she wouldn’t have to come up with a plan to sabotage the visit before it could even happen.

  
  


o0o

  
  


The kitchen in Nat and Clint’s house was much more comfortable than the kitchen in their first apartment, third year of college. High ceilings, white counters in an l-shape with marble counter tops and a gas oven, that was a pleasure to cook with. Tall windows let the sunshine in, that hit the round wooden table in a big breakfast nook. A bouquet of sunflowers in a blue ceramic vase brought a pop of color, as well as some brass pots and pans.

He liked the atmosphere it. Cool, organized and yet homely. The whole house felt like that.

He poured two packs of gnocchi into a pot of boiling, salted water. The spinach was already welting in the pan and it smelled like caramelized onion and garlic. Fifteen more minutes and he would be ready to serve his gnocchi spinach casserole.

Nat and Clint were giving Melinda a tour of the house, but they couldn’t fool him. They wanted to talk to her alone.

But Melinda could handle them.

“She gave me nothing,” said Nat behind him as she walked into the kitchen. “I like her.”

He grinned. “She is a former CIA agent. And she’s amazing.”

She came up next to him and watched him slice tomatoes. She didn’t say one word, didn’t make a sound.

Eventually he sighed. “Don’t do that.”

She tilted her head and looked at him with big, innocent eyes.

Yeah, he wasn’t buying that. He squinted at her. “Don’t just stay silent and be cute while I talk too much for my own good.”

Now she grinned. “So you like her?”

He smiled. He couldn’t help it. He tried to hide it, focusing on the tomatoes again, but no chance.

She nodded. “Good answer. Have you kissed her yet?”

He hated when Nat changed tactic like that. “Where is she now?” he asked.

“In the archery with Clint. Shooting at stuff.” She raised a brow. “So you haven’t kissed her.”

Damn her for reading him so well. Damn him for being so easy to read. God, he really wanted to kiss Melinda. He cleared his throat. “Why aren’t you playing with them?”

“I wanted to interrogate you.”

He laughed and shook his head. He had really missed her! He put down the knife and grabbed a grate and bowl with a piece of pecorino cheese in it and placed both in front of Nat. “Grate this and I tell you everything.”

She snorted. “Liar.”

“How are you and Clint doing?” he asked. Not only to distract her, but because he really wanted to know.

“Not running away from our mommy.”

Ouch.

Nat started grating the cheese into the bowl. It would make the casserole creamy and give it a crisp top. Cheese was a wonderful thing.

And he really didn’t want to talk about his mother. “How are you, really?”

“Phil.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Do you talk to her about it?”

He told Melinda way too much. And not once had she given him the impression that he was being crazy.

“That’s good,” Nat said. “You need a girlfriend you can talk to. Trust is very important in a relationship.”

The tomatoes were all sliced and the gnocchi started to come up. He took the pot from the oven and poured the gnocchi into a strainer. “My mother didn’t trust me. She lied.”

“Like that’s enough, to make you run.”

“As you said, trust is important.” He glanced at her before he added a cup of sour cream to the spinach onion garlic mix. “She doesn’t trust me and broke mine.”

Nat waited while he added the tomatoes and the gnocchi, too. When he turned to her to get the grated cheese, she just looked at him, her features soft.

He sighed. “I needed out. I need change.”

He took the cheese and mixed one cup of it under the gnocchi and spinach. Nat handed him the oiled casserole dish and he poured the mixture in, then they both sprinkled the rest of the cheese on top.

After he placed the casserole into the oven, he grabbed a sponge and cleaned the kitchen counters. Nat was still waiting on him, just standing there, being his friend. He sighed.

“Have you ever heard of SHIELD?”

“The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division?”

“They exist.”

Nat’s eyes widened. “Director Fury offered you a job?”

“How could you possibly know that?”

She shrugged. “Not to brag, but we have job offers from the FBI, the CIA and SHIELD.”

“Will you accept one of them?”

“Probably.” She grinned. “Being a PI is already getting boring.”

“Sure. One can only bust a certain amount of drug cartels before it becomes repetitive.”

“Exactly.” “SHIELD sounds the most interesting so far. We couldn’t find any intel on them. And we looked hard.”

“So we could be working together.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed. He didn’t want to disappoint his mom. Being angry at her was so much easier.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was SUCH a pain to get me to even start writing this chapter. Procrastination and writing anxiety at its finest. Not my best moment. I hope I didn't mess up Nat. I would love to hear your thoughts on this!


	18. Richfield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they settle in for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support! I hope you like this!

Damn her heart for skipping a beat when Janovčik took her hand and turned to her.

“We could kiss or run,” Janovčik said.

Tori snorted, but her mouth felt try. “Is this your flight or flirt instinct kicking in?”

Janovčik took her other hand and came a bit closer. Now they weren’t even a foot apart. Close enough to kiss. “We’ve been running around here for two hours and for the last ten, that Barton guy has been watching us like a hawk,” Janovčik said and raised her brows. “So, we either can go back to the camper, or kiss.”

Tori had to trust her with that, because in an attempt to not draw attention, she had her back to the house, looking at Janovčik in front of her. For the last twenty minutes they had been chatting about all and nothing, trying to look as normal as possible. Janovčik was right, they were being suspicious. The street they were on existed of a small paved road, sidewalks on both sides of it and seven houses with well groomed front yards. He probably knew who lived in each house. To make things worse, people in his sort of profession were notoriously observant. Tori swallowed. “Kissing it is.”

“Thought so –“ Janovčik sighed, before her eyes widened. “What?”

Tori grinned, she couldn’t help it. She squeezed Janovčik’s hands and slowly bent down. “Just hold still.”

Janovčik pulled in a sharp breath. Tori closed her eyes before her mouth gently touched hers. Soft and warm. She smiled against her mouth and did it again, before she pulled away.

“How was that?” Tori asked.

“Really lovely.”

“Is he still watching?”

“Hmm …”

Tori opened her eyes to find Janovčik had hers still closed. She was adorable! Tori grinned. “Janovčik? You need to open your eyes and check.”

Janovčik’s eyes fluttered open and cleared her throat. “Sure.” Her cheeks flushed as she focused her gaze on the house behind Tori. Then she swallowed. “He’s giving us a thumbs up.”

Crap. “So we better go, before he points out the cute lesbian couple to others?” Tori asked.

“Exactly.” Janovčik waved at Barton and blushed even harder.

What a bust. Well, not a complete bust. Holding hands, they walked away. They lost their stake out spot, but at least their cover wasn’t blown. And kissing Janovčik had been lovely.

  
  


o0o

  
  


Melinda returned from the bathroom to the guest room with her teeth brushed and wearing a black leggings and a loose black shirt to sleep in.

Nat and Clint had such a lovely house. Like the rest of it, the guest room was decorated in light colors, with white walls and a dark wooden floor, that felt great underneath her bare feet. A big king size bed with a blue upholstered headboard was the center of the room. Two glass nightstands with small brass lamps on top flanked them. Two small light blue rugs lay on both sides of the bed, giving the room some warmth. There also was an antique looking little trunk right in front of the bed. And in front of that now lay a big air mattress.

Phil took a pillow from the bed while Clint got a fluffy blanket out of the trunk. They arranged both on the air mattress.

“All done,” Clint said and smiled. Both wore sweats and shirts, too. “Time for bed.” It was after midnight, but with the good food and the good company time just had passed them by. They had played a few rounds of shooting arrows against each other, counting points, in which Melinda had won the rights to the bed and Phil would have to sleep on the air mattress.

“Can I get you guys anything? Some snacks? A condom?” Clint asked.

Melinda raised a brow and Phil groaned as he ran a hand over his face.

“Mean Girls is his favorite movie,” Phil said and glared at Clint.

“Aha.”

“It’s just a great movie to do shots to.”

“Got it.”

“And Phil’s adorable when he gets flustered,” Clint said, grinning, and nudged Phil’s arm.

True.

Phil glared harder. “Why did I miss you again?”

“Because I’m not a regular mom, I’m a cool mom.”

“We got so drunk watching this movie,” said Nat and came in. She wore a red satin pajamas that looked very soft. She grinned at Melinda. “Why is Phil blushing?”

Phil’s cheeks had flushed indeed. Melinda smirked. “Clint kindly offered us condoms,” she said.

“Protection is important.” Clint made a serious face.

And Nat patted his back. “Good man.”

Phil groaned. “Please just go!”

Laughing, they wished them a good night and left.

“Sorry about that,” Phil said and rubbed the back of his neck. “They love to tease me.”

“It’s fun to watch.”

He snorted. “Always glad to amuse you.”

They both got into their beds and switched off the lights. Not five minutes in, Melinda heard this strange squeaky farting sound. And it came from in front of the bed.

“This isn’t me,” Phil whispered. He sounded embarrassed.

“Your bed is loosing air, isn’t it?” She sat up and switched on the right side of the bed.

Phil sat up too, blinking against the light. And the mattress farted louder. This was ridiculous!

She giggled.

“Probably just a hole somewhere in the plastic.” Phil pulled up his shoulders. “It’s quite old.”

“You can sleep next to me.”

“I can sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be silly.” She patted the left side of the bed. There was room enough for two.

“But -”

“We’re both adults.”

“Are you sure, you’re ok with this?” He leaned forward, forcing the mattress to fart loud and squeaky in protest.

As hilarious as this was, there was no way, they could sleep with that thing slowly farting itself to death beneath him. “Get up here.”

So he grabbed his pillow and the blanket and did just that. As soon as the mattress was relieved of his body weight, the farting stopped. In a few hours the thing would probably be deflated, but at least it was now doing it quietly.

She waited until Phil had arranged his pillow and the blanket to his liking, before she switched off the lamp again.

It was nice to have him so close to her. They didn’t touch, she lay under the covers and he above it, with the blanket. But still. If she wanted to, she could reach out and touch him.

“Can I ask you something?” he whispered into the dark.

“Depends on the question.”

“Why don’t you take more photos?”

“How do you mean?”

“You only took photos on the job in Chicago. You haven’t touched your camera since.”

She pressed her lips together. She was glad that he couldn’t see her. What should she tell him?

He sighed. She could feel the bed move as he rolled on his side towards her. “I’m sorry, if -”

“No. I just …” She wanted to tell him about Seattle. About how much she had loved her job and about the dead girl. But how could she? He would resent her and she needed to stay close to him.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said.

She swallowed hard. “I’m good at taking photos.”

“You are,” he said. “You don’t have to be okay all the time. Sometimes things just aren’t.”

“You said that to me before.” On their first night in the camper, after she had talked to her mother. And just like then it felt so good to hear it. It made her want to turn to him and cuddle up in his arms. Which was a terrible idea.

He sighed softly. “You’re so strong. I think you’re the strongest person I ever met.”

Her throat closed up and she clenched her fist. “I’m really not.” He would not make her cry with his kindness. He would not!

“You don’t have to be. Not with me.”

Damn him. She took a deep breath. “My last mission with the CIA. It went bad,” she whispered. “It went really bad. So I couldn’t do that any longer, but I had to do something. And I take good photographs.”

“Thank you.”

For some reason, that made her laugh. An ugly, snorted laugh. Oh God, what was she doing? She was a mess. And he would hate her.

But now he whispered, “No, I mean it. Thank you for trusting me.”

And he broke her heart.

 


	19. Guest Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which he has to wake her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful crazymaryt for being so wonderfully supportive and a great friend. Thank you to all of you for all your kind words! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. We're getting closer and closer to the end and writing is getting intense! Please let me know what you think?!

“You don’t have to do this,” someone said next to him. Her voice sounded rough. She sounded scared.

Phil blinked. It was dark around him.

“Please don’t make me do this,” the voice begged quietly. Melinda’s voice. She sounded like she was about to cry. His heart clenched.

“Melinda?” They were at Nat and Clint’s, in the guest room. In the same bed.

“Please,” she whimpered. “Please …”

She broke his heart. “Melinda.” He sat up and switched on the night lamp. She lay next to him, with her back to him, curled up in herself. “Melinda, wake up.”

“Please …” Her voice broke. This was horrible. It had been lovely to fall asleep next to her. Awkward and a bit tense, too. He would’ve loved to touch her. To just hold her. But he stayed on his side of the bed and she on hers. He had imagined waking up with her in his arms.

Oh god, he just wanted to hug her and hold her. She wouldn’t appreciate that. “It’s just a dream. Please wake up.” He gently touched her shoulder.

She flinched away from him, sat up and turned around, her fists raised. Her eyes were widened, she was panting.

He held up his hands and leaned back to give her more space. “It was just a dream,” he said as calmly as he could. “It’s just me.”

She stared at him for a moment before she lowered her fists and took a deep breath. She pulled up her legs and hid her face behind her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. “ He grabbed the blanket with both hands to keep himself from touching her. He wished he could so something for her. Make her feel better.

“I’m sorry, I woke you.” She was trembling.

He wished she’d look at him. “Don’t worry about it.” With a sigh, he got out of bed. There was something he could do.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting you a glass of water.” He walked to the door. The air mattress was completely flat, he stepped over it. “Or would you like something else?” He looked at her as he opened the door. “I’m not sure where Nat keeps her teas, but I can probably -”

“Everything ok?” Nat asked from behind him. This time, he flinched. Damn her for her spy qualities. Nat looked at Melinda, then her gaze wandered to something else. “What happened to the mattress?”

Phil sighed. “The mattress has a hole and Melinda had a bad dream.”

“It’s fine,” Melinda said and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I’m fine.”

Bullshit. Her whole body was tensed up.

Clint stepped next to Nat. With all three of them in the doorway, it was getting crowded. “What’s going on?” Clint asked and frowned. “What happened to the mattress?”

“The mattress has a hole,” said Nat. “Melinda had a bad dream.”

Clint nodded full of empathy. “Was it about clowns?”

Melinda pressed her lips together. “Old work stuff.”

“We once investigated a clown, because his wife thought he cheated on her. Still have nightmares about that one.” Clint sighed.

Nat rolled her eyes.

“Did he cheat?” Phil asked.

“He killed people,” Nat said, matter of factly. Then she smiled at Melinda, who looked a bit better. Her shoulders started to relax and she wasn’t as pale as before. “Would you like a cup of tea?” Nat asked.

“You don’t have to -” Melinda tried.

But Clint interrupted her. “We’ve all been there,” he said softly. Phil was so glad he was his friend. He was a good person. “Well, maybe not Phil,” Clint added then. “His mother is overprotective.”

Unbelievable! True, but such a low blow. He nudged Clint with his elbow.

But he wasn’t fazed by that at all. “Do you like chamomile tea?” he asked Melinda.

“Just water, please.”

“You got it.” Nat smiled.

Before Phil could follow them, Nat closed the door in front of his face.

With a sigh, he turned around to Melinda. “They mean well, I swear!”

Melinda nibbled on her bottom lip, pulled her shoulders up and looked at a spot on the wall in front of her.

He walked back to the bed and sat down. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

She snorted. “I’m usually not such a mess.”

“I am. Well, not usually.” He shrugged. “Just lately. Don’t worry about it.”

She kept staring at that spot.

“Melinda?”

She turned her head to him.

“Don’t worry about it.” All he wanted was for her to feel safe and comfortable. That was how she made him feel whenever this got too much. Like when they had found the newspaper. Or while he first ran.

The door opened and Clint was back. He carried a glass of water in each hand.

“Here’s your glass of water.” He handed the first one to Melinda. Then he offered the other to Phil. “Got you one, too.” He grinned. “Your mother is quite a handful.”

What a peach! Snorting, Phil took the glass. “Thanks, Clint.”

“Thank you,” Melinda said.

“No problem.” Clint smiled at her. “See you in a few hours.” He left them alone again and they both sipped on their water. She put the glass on the table and lied back down. She rolled on her side, with her back towards him. He did the same and switched off the light as soon as she seemed comfortable.

“You think you can sleep a bit more?” he whispered and rolled on his side, facing her.

“I’m really sorry, Phil.” she whispered back. “I shouldn’t have gone on this trip, I should -”

“You’re the best part of this trip,” he interrupted.

She didn’t answer.

  
  


o0o

  
  


Janovčik drummed her finger tips on the table. They were back in the camper, which they had parked on the parking lot of a grocery store. When one of the clerks had asked them to leave last night, Tori had shown her badge. Later, that same clerk had brought them two paper cups of coffee and two chocolate bars. For serving their country, she had said. Such a nice girl. This morning she had returned with more coffee and two breakfast muffins.

Janovčik snipped a crumble off the table. “So we kissed.” They sat at the little seating area, with Janovčik at the middle and Tori to her left.

“We did.” It would be easy to kiss again, they were close enough. Stupid. Tori sipped her coffee. Not strong enough for her taste, but hot and fresh. Her stomach fluttered at the memory. She shouldn’t have done that. Giving in to Janovčik’s provocation was stupid. She didn’t need the heartbreak.

“We didn’t have to.” Janovčik’s hands finally stopped moving. She folded them over in her lap.

Tori raised a brow. “But it was such a nice way to shut you up.”

“Was that all it was?” Janovčik looked at her with big, blue eyes.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Why are you always such a flirt?”

“You were the one who kissed me!”

And she wanted to kiss her again. Stupid, stupid, stupid! “I think you like to flirt. I think you like to tease me because you think I’m uptight.”

Janovčik stared at the table. “I like you.”

Yeah, right. Tori put down the cup. She was a bit worried, she would crush it.

“I like you a lot,” Janovčik added. “That’s why I flirt.”

What the hell should she do with this information? She wanted to believe her so much. She swallowed hard. “We’re partners.” There were regulations. There were rules.

Now Janovčik looked at her. “I think you like me too and that scares you.”

Damn her for being right. “If we do this, one of us has to change jobs.”

“I can change jobs.”

“But protecting Liberty -”

“Was a wild ride so far. There’re other jobs. I never met someone like you.”

Okay. Tori took a deep breath. Okay. “You’re really intense.”

“I know.” Janovčik pressed her lips together.

Tori’s heart was racing. “I think we should go on a date,” she said.

“A date?” Janovčik’s voice was trembling.

“If that’s what you want.”

Janovčik swallowed and she straightened up. “And on that date, will you kiss me again?”

Tori cradled her face and did just that. As she had suspected, it was easy. All she had to do was lean over and turn her upper body to the right. Her lips were as soft and sweet as Tori remembered. “Does that answer your question?” she asked.

Janovčik covered her hand with hers and pulled it to her mouth, pressing a kiss on Tori’s palm. She smiled. “My name’s Anna, by the way.”

Tori smiled too. “I’m Tori.”

 


	20. Nevada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they look at stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long. Last week was a bit nuts!

The stars gave her all the light she needed to move around. The full moon helped, too. Melinda ended her Tai Chi routine and grabbed the bottle of water she had put on the steps of the camper.

Tomorrow they would reach Las Vegas. The motor station they would stay at for the night was empty aside from their camper, which meant that Tori and Janovčik had to drop back again.

Today he had made them a simple pasta dish with red pesto, scallions and dried tomatoes. The parmesan had been the cherry on top of a delicious meal.

Afterwards she had done the dishes and it felt so normal and she could breathe and smile at a pun he made that she already forgot again. She felt like a person around him. Not as broken. Not as damaged.

She didn’t want to go to bed. Not after last night’s disaster. He had been so sweet about it. He just was so very sweet.

Which was half the problem.

Sitting down on the steps, she opened the bottle and took a big gulp. The door behind her opened and Phil came out, breathing in the fresh air.

He sat down next to her and she got goosebumps.

Damn.

She was way too involved in it. And that made him vulnerable. How good of a bodyguard could she be when the person she should be protecting had to save her from nightmares?

But he had been perfect. His friends had been wonderful.

He sighed happily next to her.

“Thank you,” she said. She should’ve said that much sooner.

He turned his head. “For what?”

“For always cooking.” She swallowed. “For last night.”

He shrugged it off. “You always do the clean up.”

“You don’t want me to cook.”

“Tomorrow morning, you’ll be making pancakes.”

She snorted.

But he squinted at her. “I’m absolutely serious.”

“I’m not gonna poison the president’s son.” Her mission was dangerous enough as it was.

“You won’t. I’ll help you.” He smiled and she looked at his lips. Damn her for that.

She swallowed hard and looked down. “Did I talk in my sleep?” She must’ve. What else could’ve woken him up?

“It was adorable,” he said.

Like hell.

“Fine, it wasn’t.” He sighed and brushed his arm against hers. “You were scared and I’m just trying to …”

“To make me feel better.”

“Yes.”

Damn. “I’m really sorry for waking you. I normally don’t talk during -”

“But you get nightmares a lot?”

Almost every night. The last thing she wanted was his pity. She pressed her lips together. Her shoulders tensed up.

“I think it’s better when you do talk,” he said. “If you wake me, then I can wake you.”

A man with a plan. No pity, just logic. “Phil,” she mumbled. She wanted to hug him. No. She wanted him to hold her tight.

“I don’t mind.” His words felt like an embrace.

She turned her head to look at him, just to find him already looking at her. In the moonlight his eyes seemed dark grey.

His gaze jumped to her mouth and back to her eyes. “I don’t mind at all.”

It was so easy to kiss him. The easiest thing in the world. All she had to do was lean into him a little bit and he met her half way, holding still and waiting for her to close the gap between their lips. When she did, it felt electric. His lips were soft but firm under hers. She lingered for a short moment before she pulled away.

But then he cradled her face, not pulling or directing her, just touching. His thumb caressed her cheek.

When she kissed him again, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer as she opened her mouth to his. He tasted so good!

He groaned and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

Yes! She wanted to touch him. She needed him closer! She needed -

To stop.

She needed to stop right now.

“I can't.” She broke away and he immediately let go.

He held up his hands. “I'm sorry -”

“No, you're … you're perfect.” She was doing everything wrong! She turned away and crossed her arms.

He shook his head. “This is too much too soon. We can take it slow. I'm not going anywhere. Literally. We're still in the desert, so …”

Against better judgement, she smiled. God, she wanted to date this man. She wanted to kiss him again.

He sighed in relief and smiled back.

This was wrong on so many levels. She took a deep breath.

“If you'd know me you'd run,” she mumbled.

He shook his head again, sternly this time.

“You can't know that.”

He touched her arm. When she looked at him, he repeated, “I'm not gonna run.”

She was a mess. A liar. A killer.

He took her right hand in both of his. “You don't have to tell me anything, but whatever you want to share, I'll hear, okay?”

She nodded. His thumbs brushed over the back of her hand and she longed to kiss him again.

Terrible idea.

She cleared her throat and pulled her hand away.

“Will you really make me cook tomorrow?” she asked.

“It’s not really cooking. It’s just pancakes.”

“Can’t I just set the table or something?”

He shook his head. “You always set the table.”

“And nobody got poisoned so far!”

“You’ll do just fine.” He smiled.

“And we’re okay?” She just had to ask.

“We are.”

  
  


o0o

  
  


Why the hell had she kissed him last night?

Because he was sweet and kind and wonderful and sexy.

Crap.

Crap, crap, crap, crap.

This wasn’t her vacation from reality. It was his. She needed to remember that. She had to be more careful with him. As soon as he would learn the truth about her, he would feel so betrayed.

But it wasn’t that moment yet. She still had a job to do and there was still a threat against his life.

She just wished she could tell him the truth. She wished he would already know and still be like he was now.

Smiling. Pleased with himself.

She took a bite off the fresh pancake on her plate. Her eyes widened. “It really worked!”

He laughed. “Of course it did! You’re dealing with a pro here.”

A professional pancake maker? She raised a brow and took another bite. God, it tasted delicious! She couldn’t believe she actually made something edible. That was close to a miracle.

Another piece of pancake landed in her mouth and she chewed it happily. She shouldn’t enjoy this as much. It wouldn’t last. He would get hurt. And she would lose him.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” he asked.

Yes. She swallowed. “You don’t want that.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Pretty sure I do.”

Hopefully this charade would end soon. Hopefully his mother would finally give him the truth. He deserved better than this. She pressed her lips together. They should’ve just stayed with Nat and Clint. Or they should’ve gone to Portland. He deserved someone in his corner. From what she had gathered, Audrey Nathan seemed like a great person. Maria had told her that he had been deeply in love with her.

“You said your last breakup was rough …”

“You’re not a makeshift.”

She stared at him.

“Audrey and I …” He sighed. “We broke up because our lives didn’t fit together.”

“But your life is different now, isn’t it?” He deserved to have something good left after all this mess. “You’re changing things.”

“I hope so.”

“Maybe now the two of you could -”

“You can just say no, you know?” He pulled up his shoulders. “I understand. You don’t owe me -”

“I’d really like to go out with you.” She’d like to kiss him again. She’d like for this to be as real as it felt.

He smiled. “Good.”

“But that’s not a good idea.”

“I think it’s one of my best so far.”

“I’m not good at this relationship stuff. Never really was.”

“I’m not sure I understand …”

Even if he could get over her betrayal, she was still who she was. “I was married and I hurt him and we had to break up and I just can’t -”

“Now you’re being silly.”

She squinted at him. Silly? Andrew Gardner had been the perfect husband. She had loved him so much. And she still hadn’t been able to fix herself. To be good enough. He couldn’t bear to watch her suffer, because he had loved her too. And that was the worst of it.

“I’m not your ex husband,” Phil said. “This could be different. It already is.”

“But I’m still the same.”

“That’s my favorite bit.”

Why did he do that? Why did he constantly say things that made her feel precious and adored and strong?

She loved to be the woman he saw in her.

“Would you like to go to the Captain America exhibition with me?” he asked.

Of course she would. If things were simpler, she might’ve been happy in this very moment. She wanted another kiss. Instead she stood up. “We need to get to Vegas first.”

He looked up to her. “Does that mean you’ll finally let me drive?”

No way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so freaking nervous about this! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know what you think?


	21. Las Vegas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil looks at heroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an angst bomb, which is why it took forever to write. Mostly because I avoided it. Because it's an angst bomb.

They weren’t holding hands but she allowed him to pay for the exhibition, so that was something.

And she had kissed him. Last night, Melinda May had kissed him.

Butterflies danced in his stomach, just thinking about her soft lips and how she had pressed herself against him. She had tasted so sweet and gentle, like tea.

After breakfast, she had driven them straight to Vegas, now their camper was parked at a ridiculously expensive parking lot in the middle of the city. But at least it was in walking distance to the Captain America Museum, where they had spent their last three hours.

He opened the door for her and together they walked out of it.

The door fell shut behind him and the bright night lights of Las Vegas and the noise of the city washed over them.

“Peggy Carter is amazing!” he said.

She nodded. “She really is.”

“And Steve Rogers is unbelievable! I know he had super powers and everything, but did you know that this brave man threw himself in front of a bomb when he was still puny?”

“We just went through the exhibition together.”

“Sorry.” He nibbled on his lip. He was trying too hard and it wasn’t helping.

“It’s fine,” she said.

But something wasn’t, he could feel it.

Now there was this tension in her shoulders and her jaw. She hadn’t really said much ever since they started walking through the Captain America exhibition. He enjoyed her silence when it was peaceful, but something seemed off.

Something had been off with her ever since the kiss. He didn’t think that she slept last night.

People surrounded them, tourists and locals, distinguishable on the speed they were walking at. The tourists, like them, wandered slowly to drink in their surroundings, the lights and the noise, while the locals rushed to their destinations.

They went back to the parking lot. Next stop would be a casino with a lobster buffet and maybe a show afterwards, if they could get tickets for anything good. He hoped for the Captain America musical. The woman who had sold them the tickets to the exhibition had said it was amazing.

And how could one go wrong with Steve Rogers? One couldn’t.

They entered the parking lot. Lots of cars around, not many people. And not one person close enough to listen in on them.

“Are you still worried about this?” he asked.

She raised a brow.

“About us, I mean.” He swallowed and put his hands in his pockets. He wanted to hold her hand. Silly. “We don’t have to rush anything,” he added. He could wait. He wanted to kiss her, but he could wait.

Looking down, she shook her head. “I really tried to do good, I just …” She pressed her lips together and shrugged.

“Melinda?”

“There was a girl with a bomb wrapped around her and a trigger in her hand,” she mumbled. “She was fifteen. And I shot her. I killed a child.” Her voice was rough.

Oh my God. His stomach clenched. She still didn’t look at him, he wished she would. He wanted to touch her, but that wouldn’t be wise. A child? Now her ramblings during her nightmare made horrible sense.

“Melinda …”

“I killed her.”

A bomb threat. And a dead teenager. He didn’t know what to say.

“And she was so … she was a child. She was so young and I just killed her.”

“You were in Seattle two years ago.” He had read about it in the newspaper. His heart was racing. He felt so helpless. Bomb threat, but the CIA handled it. Just two people dead. One lady who got trampled during the panic as they had evacuated the mall, and the terrorist. Hundred people wounded, bruises, broken bones. But it could’ve been so, so much worse.

His mother had held a speech that day, thanking the CIA for their excellent work.

“You saved hundreds of lives,” he said.

Melinda looked at him. Finally. Her lips were pressed together, her eyes widened and filled with tears.

He wanted to hug her so badly. “You saved people.”

“But I killed the girl!” One tear rolled down her cheek.

“Melinda, please …” He reached out his hand, but she flinched away.

“I loved my job.” She lifted her chin, stubborn now. Angry. “Who loves killing children? What kind of monster enjoys that?” She spit out the words with disgust.

“You didn’t.” How could she talk about herself like that? He shook his head and held up his hands.

“You’re not a monster,” he said. “You’re just not.” She was kind and sweet and obviously deeply traumatized, but she wasn’t a monster.

He reached out to her again and this time she allowed him to take her right hand in his.

“You’re not a monster,” he repeated. Then he noticed a movement from the corner of his eye.

“May! To your left!” Hand yelled behind him.

There was a knife in a hairy hand. People where running. Melinda tensed up and turned into action.

But Phil was closer.

“Just give me your money!” The man who spoke wore a shawl around his face. He had a lousy stand. With one hand, he hit the man’s wrist and the knife dropped to the floor. With the other, he hit his stomach and the man toppled over, before Janovčik grabbed the man by the shoulders and pulled him backwards and to the ground.

At the same time, Melinda pulled Phil back and stepped in front of him. Janovčik secured the man on the ground and Hand picked up the knife.

Everyone was breathing heavily. The man groaned.

“What the hell is going on?” Phil asked. His heart was racing. Hand and Janovčik had appeared out of nowhere.

But he knew the answer, didn’t he? God, he hated this.

He turned to Melinda. “Do you work for my mother?”

“I’m so sorry,” Melinda mumbled. “I didn’t see him, I didn’t -”

“Answer me! Do you work for my mother?!” He felt sick. He felt like throwing up.

She took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Did you report on me?” he asked and nodded at Hand and Janovčik. “To them? To _her_?”

“Yes.”

“I really don’t know you at all, do I?” He clenched his hands into fists, his nails dug painfully into his palm. He snorted. “I must’ve been so entertaining to you.” God, what a fool he had been! What a ridiculous, hopeless fool!

She just pressed her lips together, a stoic expression in her eyes.

Five minutes ago he had felt so blessed by her trust in him … What a load of bullshit! And his mother planned all this!

He gritted his teeth and took a step back. “We’re done.” He turned his back to her. He couldn’t stand to look at her one second longer. “Hand?”

Hand swallowed she had her cell in her hand. “Yes, sir?”

Janovčik still held the thief pressed to the ground, her knee pressing down between his shoulders.

“Get me a flight back to Washington.”

He was done with running. He needed to yell at his mother.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me I'm not the only one crying over them right now?


	22. Washington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil demands truth.

He was so furious, it took all his restrained to seem calm during the way back home. The whole flight through, he gripped the handles of his seat so tightly, his hands hurt. His heart was racing, his stomach knotted and his whole body tingled with pent up tension.

Ever since he had turned his back to Melinda May, he could barely breathe because he was so angry. And heartbroken. And that made him even angrier. Followed by Hand and Janovčik he walked through the White House.

CJ, his mother’s assistant, stepped in his way when he stormed towards his mother’s office, but she just took one look at his face and backed off.

He opened the door and found his mother behind her desk. Director May stood in front of it with her hands on her hips and Maria Hill stood behind his mother.

Seemed like they had important business. He didn’t care one bit.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he hissed.

Suddenly all eyes were on him. The director raised her brows, Hill frowned and his mother seemed happy to see him.

Damn her for that.

“Phil,” she said with a smile.

Damn her for that, too. He was so angry, he could throw a chair. “Start explaining,” he growled and clenched his fists.

“I don’t wanted you to worry,” she said softly and pulled up her shoulders.

“You mean the dirty man I took down?”

“That was a common thief. There are threads against your life made by the AfA,” director May said.

He turned his head to her. “Excuse me?”

“We have intel that the AfA plans to kill you. One of my teams is working on drawing them out.”

That felt like a cold shower. His heart skipped a beat and he pulled in a sharp breath. Things suddenly fell into place. “Manitowoc?”

 

The director nodded and Phil turned back to his mother.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” he yelled. Why the hell would she keep that from him? Didn’t she see how incredibly stupid and reckless that had been? How could she still treat him like a child?

“I didn’t want you to worry about another obstacle I brought to your life.”

“So instead you lied to me.” Unbelievable.

“I did not -”

“You made others lie to me.” He shook his head. “Was it your idea to make agent May flirt with me?” He glared at director May. “Or was it yours? She’s an agent, still, isn’t she?”

Director May glared at him. “Excuse me?” Her voice was dangerously low.

He gritted his teeth. “I’m such an idiot for falling for it! Of course the daughter of the director of CIA hasn’t turned her back on the spy game! All that bullshit about Seattle and being wounded and just -”

“My daughter talked to you about Seattle?”

“Brilliant performance, really,” he sneered. “The setup, the nightmares, the kiss. I fell for it, hook, line and sinker. You must be proud.”

Director May gasped. “She …?”

She made a complete fool out of him. Foolishly in love. Stupid, stupid, stupid! His nails dug painfully into his palms. He needed to stop thinking about Melinda now. “How much progress did you make in Manitowoc?” he asked.

 

Director May crossed her arms. “Classified.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I’m the director of the CIA. I don’t kid.”

“Mother?!”

Elaine nodded shortly. “Tell him.”

“We intercepted some hidden messages on an internet forum about tabby cats.”

“That’s it?”

“You’re still alive.” Maria Hill said and lifted her chin. “We’ll keep it that way.”

“No, you won’t,” he said. This had to stop. This was enough. How could they not tell him that a terrorist group planned to kill him? He was so done with all of it. “I quit.”

Maria frowned. “Quit?”

“This. Politics.” He took a breath. “All of it.” Suddenly he was just tired.

His mother stood up. “Don’t you dare -”

“Don’t I dare?” Like he was the one in the wrong? Oh no! He pointed at her. “You lied to me. You kept this from me. I’m not a child. I’m a man. And if you can’t see me as anything else but a political puppet, there’s absolutely nothing left for me here!”

“Phil!”

He shook his head. He needed to get out of here. He needed to make a call.

 

o0o

 

They heard every word Liberty yelled inside the oval office and now Tori’s palms were sweating. He stormed out the office, just like he had stormed in. Anna and she followed him to his room, but when he wanted to close the next door in front of them, Tori couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Did she really talk to you about Seattle?” she asked.

“Excuse me?” He glared at her.

But she could handle his anger, she knew it wasn’t directed at her, and besides, she would’ve been pissed off too, if anybody ever tried to pull a stunt like that on her. So she just lifted her chin. “You were yelling, sir.”

“None of your business.”

“If she talked to you about Seattle, it is.”

He squinted at her. She could feel Anna’s eyes on her too.

“I was her former partner.” Tori swallowed. “I was in Seattle.”

Liberty snorted. “Right.”

“Right!”

“Why would I believe you?”

“She never talked about Seattle before. Not to me. Not to her mother, not to Andrew. She just …” Tori pressed her lips together. They all lost her that day. “She shut down,” Tori added. “She quit. She came back to protect you.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“If she talked to you about Seattle, if you feel anything for her, you need to go and talk to her.” During that crazy trip she had seen glimpses of her old friend. She had seen glimpses of happiness. But she also had seen Melinda’s face after Phil Coulson told her that they were done.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so scared of all the angst and the anger and then life stuff happened and it took a while to get back to the story, but here we are! Please let me know what you think!?


	23. Fitness Center

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Melinda gets visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to complete this thing today! With this one posted, there's just one left and I can use all the motivation for the last writing sprint! Let me know what you think?

She got drunk. Of course it didn’t help, but she couldn’t think of anything that would. She missed the threat. How the hell could she miss a man with a knife coming at the man she swore to protect?

She had failed terribly on so many fronts and now she felt just as lost and miserable as she had felt after Seattle.

He was so mad at her. Just the look on his face when he figured it out, the betrayal and the shock. He was so hurt.

So he left and she got drunk at some bar.

Tori called, Hill, too. She didn’t pick up.

Then Tori texted, _“We’re on the plane now. He’s angry but okay.”_

Melinda ordered more Whisky. After she had enough, she rented a cheap motel room and took a shower.

She dried her hair when Tori texted again, “ _We landed. He’s safe. Please call.”_

She called Hill instead, gave a short briefing, asked for orders on how to deal with the camper. She apologized. She resigned.

She got her stuff from the camper and handed the keys to some agents. She got a flight to New York. She got home. She drank some more.

Her mother called. Tori called. Hill called.

She switched off her phone and went to bed.

After two hours of sleep, she grabbed her sports bag and went to her favorite fitness center. It was open twenty-four / seven and she preferred to work out early in the morning.

It was five a. m. .

Her head hurt. Otherwise she felt nothing.

She was done drinking now.

The fitness center was empty except for two trainers, but both women knew her and didn’t bother her. She started with kickboxing a sand bag.

The door opened behind her and somebody else came in. She didn’t mind sharing a training space as long as the other would keep quiet.

Lifting her arms to protect her upper body, she turned sideways and threw a high kick with her right leg. Hitting stuff always helped her calm down.

She gritted her teeth and hit the bag with a double combo.

“Nice punch,” someone familiar said next to her. She glanced over. Director Nick Fury, black leather coat, eye-patch and all.

So much for silence.

What was he doing here? Gritting her teeth, she kicked the punching bag repeatedly with her left foot.

“Heard you quit your job,” he said.

“You heard wrong.”

“So you’re still protecting the president’s son?”

“I’m still a photographer.”

“That’s not your job, that’s you in hiding.”

Her stomach clenched. She hated this! She hit the bag with another combo of her fists, before she started kicking it with her right foot.

“I’ve got a job for you,” Fury said.

“Are you planning a wedding?”

“You should come work for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Don’t think a secret agency has much use for a photographer.”

“You’re a top agent.”

“I just missed a threat to my latest client and I -”

“You killed that girl.”

Like a punch to the gut. She dropped her fighting posture and just stared at Fury.

He pulled up his shoulders. “You killed that girl. You shot her. It happened.”

Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Tears welled up in her eyes and she pressed her lips together.

“You had to kill a fourteen year old girl to prevent an even greater travesty.” His voice was soft and gentle now. “And you suffered because of it, because you’re not only a fantastic agent, but a good person.”

She closed her eyes and ran her hands over her face. Her heart was racing.

Before she could say anything, the door opened again and in came her mother, who immediately glared at Fury. She wore a black business suit, her hair was as perfect as her lipstick.

“What are you doing here?” Lian May asked Fury.

“Offering a job to your daughter.”

Her mother raised a brow. “About time. Did she accept?”

“Not yet.” Fury looked at Melinda. “My offer stands. The world needs you.”

With that, Fury left them.

Melinda’s head was spinning.

“He’s right,” her mother said and tilted her head. “You’re an exceptional agent, you should be in the field.”

How could she still say that? Didn’t she get the briefing? “I almost got Liberty killed.”

“That’s not true.”

“A man attacked him with a knife!”

“And he handled it.”

“I should’ve handled it! I’m not ready to -”

“You told him about Seattle.”

Melinda looked down. That was what had almost killed him. She had let her guard down on his expense. “That doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Yes, it does!” Lian sighed. “I was so worried about you ever since Seattle, but during your mission I saw you being you again. I saw you being happy.”

What was she supposed to say to that? She felt choked up. This was all too much!

Her mother sighed again. “You deserve to be happy.”

Tears streamed down her face. “But I messed up so badly!”

Her mother rubbed her arms. “You didn’t. “ She hugged her. “You really didn’t.”

Melinda leaned into her comfort until she calmed down a bit. Then she pulled away.

A mother brushed a stray of hair out of her face. There hadn’t been that much tenderness between them in years. “I could have him killed, if you want,” Lian said.

Melinda snorted. “You’re the director of the CIA, you’re in charge of protecting him.”

“Which is exactly why I could easily frame the AfA for his demise.”

“I don’t want him dead.” She just wanted another chance.

“I know.”

 


	24. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil goes for what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE LAST CHAPTER! I CAN'T BELIEVE I ACTUALLY MADE IT THIS FAR! Thank you so much to everybody for all your support! Without you I would've given up on this fourteen chapters ago and now we're here! Thank you so very much!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this. Please let me know what you think!

Packing a bag was presumptuous. Melinda probably didn’t want to see him, not after he had ended things with her. But still, here he was in his ridiculously big walk in closet, surrounded by lots of fancy suits, shirts and ties as well and printed t-shirts. Phil folded up a white shirt and put it in the black sports bag he had bought just a few days ago at Walget. The clothes he had bought there were all in the wash now. Maybe he could use them again when he would work at S.H.I.E.L.D.. He had called director Fury yesterday after his return from Vegas and accepted the offer. He would start in a month.

Before he hoped to clear some things up. Before he got here, he had packed up his toiletries. From all his comforts, he had missed his electric razor the most druing their trip. He mentally kicked himself as he replayed their last conversation in his mind. She had made herself vulnerable and put so much trust in him and he had completely dismissed her!

He was angry at his mother for that, too.

Phil pulled open a drawer and took out six balls of rolled up socks as well as underwear. He tossed everything in the bag.

He would go and apologize and ask her out.

And hopefully she would forgive him and give him another chance.

So best case scenario, he could spent some time with her in New York and his bag would be useful. Hand had already booked a hotel suite for him, in which she and Janovčik could keep an eye on him, too. No more running from his protective detail. No more running from anything.

He went to the wall of pants and browsed through the jeans section. Most of them he had never worn, but for some reason, his mother’s personal shopper thought he needed them. He picked out a dark wash and pulled it from the hanger.

Someone knocked against the servant’s entrance.

“Come in!” Where his clothes already cleaned?

But it wasn’t a servant, it was his mother. She help up her hands. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “You got every reason to be mad at me.”

He glared at her and grabbed another pair of jeans.

She sighed and sat down on a padded bench in the middle of the closet.

“This is precisely what I didn’t want for you!” she said.

He snorted. “For me to make my own decisions?”

“For you to suffer from my consequences.” His mother sighed. “I didn’t want to spoil your passion for the job.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Politics can be messy and people can be cruel.”

“I knew that already!” She was infuriating! He grabbed two shirts and threw them on the bag. He needed to get out of here.

“Of course you did, but I didn’t want you to worry about terrorists that I upset when you still had your whole career ahead of you.”

“I don’t want this career.”

“Because I meddled. I’m so sorry, Phil. I’ll stop. Please don’t give up on what you want because of my mistakes!”

“But this isn’t what I want, this is what you want!”

She swallowed hard. “Phil?”

“I don’t want to be a politician! I want to be an agent! I want to fight enemies directly!”

His mother pulled in a sharp breath and paled.

Damn it. Now he felt guilty. “I know what you do is important,” he said. “I know politics can bring and must bring change for the better, but I want to do something else.”

“But why did you never just tell me?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Oh dear, what a mess!” She shook her head. “I’m so proud of you. I want you to be happy.”

“Even if I take a job with S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“With …?” She gasped. “Fury offered you a job behind my back? I can’t believe it!”

Phil pressed his lips together. And there they went again!

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She held up her hands. “This is just a little much … I’m sorry. If working for S.H.I.E.L.D. is what you want then you should do it. You’ll be a good … whatever it is you’ll do.”

“Thank you.” That was a start. He felt his anger fade. He felt relief.

“Are you packing for Operations?”

“I won’t start until next month. I’m packing for New York.”

“Director May’s daughter.”

He nibbled on his lower lip. “I was really mean to her and she didn’t deserve that. It wasn’t her fault.”

“Because it was mine.” She sounded guilty. “You’re right. I’m sorry for that too.”

He just hoped Melinda could forgive him. He kneeled down and put in the two shirts and put the second jeans back on its hanger. Angry packing wasn’t his strong suit.

“So, you two kissed, hm?” his mother asked.

They did. Their perfect kiss. And she had trusted him. And he blew it all. He pressed his lips together.

“I’m sorry, I’m just – I’m being nosy. I’m sorry.” She stood up and came towards him, her hands behind her back. “No one ever told her to flirt with you. All Maria ever did was ask her to have an eye on you at the MoMA. I think she did the rest because of you.”

That was a lovely thought. And one that made him feel even more guilty.

“You’re a good man.”

He sighed. “Mom.”

“And I’m so proud of you.” She swallowed hard. “I just hope you can forgive me one day. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t ever lie to me like that again.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Then you’re forgiven.”

“Thank you.” She kissed his cheek and ran her hand over his back. “Give agent May my best!”

He rolled his eyes and zipped his bag. Time to go.

  
  


o0o

  
  


Three days since Phil had turned his back to her. And she was fine. Well, she wasn’t. She missed him, which was stupid because he would never forgive her and she would never see him again. But she decided this morning, after her early routine, that she would call Fury and listen to what exactly his job offer was.

She poured herself a cup of tea and switched on her laptop. It was time to get back to her current job. Two clients were still waiting for their photos. She had two other gigs this months, but she wasn’t sure if she would accept any more.

She worked herself through the second patch of photos, picking out the best ones and adjusting their little imperfections with Photoshop, when the door bell rang. It was lunch time, but unfortunately it was very unlikely that it was the pizza delivery with the food she hadn’t even ordered yet. Some salami pizza would be so good right now! But with her luck, it would probably be just some people, wanting to talk to her about Jesus.

She went to the window to take a look.

And below her window stood Phil Coulson, holding a bunch of tulips, looking at the front door! Behind him stood Tori and another agent Melinda hadn’t seen before. Her heart skipped a beat. Phil Coulson was here! Catching her breath, she went to the door and buzzed him in. Her palms started sweating, she ran her fingers through her hair. Why was she wearing yoga pants and old sweats? Maybe she should change into some jeans and a cute top or something. Oh God, she was being ridiculous!

She could hear them walk upstairs. She needed to calm down. Phil Coulson was really here!

She took a deep breath and opened the door. Phil stood in front of her door, his cheeks flushed.

Tori stood behind him, grinning. Next to her stood the other agent, a man, middle aged with a bald head and maybe five inches smaller than Tori was. He smiled too.

Phil swallowed. “I know this is super awkward, but I brought these for you.” He offered her the tulips.

She could just stare at him. Her heart was racing.

He pulled up his shoulders. “I’m sorry for turning on you like I did. I was mad at my mother and that somehow made me doubt that a person like you could exist.”

She cleared her throat. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” He tilted his head. “I’m really sorry I didn’t have more trust in you, Melinda.”

Hearing that felt so good! She took the flowers. They were beautiful. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

“Would you like to go out with me sometime?” he asked.

Her heart skipped another beat. She smiled. “I’d love to!”

He took a breath, as if to brace himself. “How about today?”

Perfect.

  
  


o0o

  
  


The next evening they made pancakes in her tiny kitchen while Tori and agent Doggett, the new agent, stood guard outside her house.

Apparently Janovčik had quit and returned to her former position with the FBI so she would be free to date Tori. Tori hadn’t been able to stop smiling as she had given Melinda the news.

Now it was Melinda’s turn to smile. Phil kissed her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

“You’re getting better!”

“I have a great teacher.” She flipped the pancake in the pan and it just broke a little bit. He kissed her neck.

She couldn’t believe that it had been less than two weeks ago that he had stolen a hat and fled from the MoMA!

“How much did you pay for that hat?”

“What hat?” He kissed her neck again while she slid the pancake on a plate.

She let the pancake be and turned around in his arms to wrap hers around his neck. “The hat you stole at MoMA’s.”

He gave and embarrassed smile. “Two hundred dollars,” he mumbled and pulled up his shoulders. “Mostly for causing the emotional pain of getting his hat stolen.”

She laughed and he kissed her.

Life was good.

  
  


 


End file.
